


Karma

by Amatia (orphan_account), Ladyhawk_lhflu



Category: The X-Files
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-08-19 13:35:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 40,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20210623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Amatia, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladyhawk_lhflu/pseuds/Ladyhawk_lhflu
Summary: This is an old fic that needs some space. Discovering love can be the best, and most difficult thing in the lives of Skinner and Mulder.





	Karma

*********************************  
Karma book 1: Conviction  
by Ladyhawk   
*********************************

Chapter 1: Conviction

The power of conviction can keep a person from crumbling or crush   
him under its weight. Conviction is what keeps Special Agent Fox   
Mulder's head high as he passes the open door of my secretary's   
office, presumably rushing to investigate minor legal   
infringements in the Midwest. 

I know better. He has gone behind the back of two Assistant   
Directors and two Special Agents to get what he needs, the means   
of finding the truth. I know someday he will find it, the truth   
about his sister, about the Consortium and that black-lung   
bastard, even the truth about what Krycek did to me a month ago.

I hold a secret that Special Agent Mulder will never find out.   
That conviction weighs me down as I close the inner door of the   
office and lean back in my chair. This secret prompted me to stop   
Mulder and Scully from pursuing SR 819, from playing that deadly   
cat and mouse game with Krycek. I will do that alone.

I glance over the expense report that Agent Spender handed me this   
morning. It looks empty without all the costs that my two   
incorrigible agents have and still do incur, if the rumors   
about them are correct. No renting scuba equipment to chase Loch   
Ness monsters, no hospital bills from injuries gotten while saving   
the world. The X-files are not under my jurisdiction, but I turn a   
blind eye to this out of loyalty to my former agents and because   
of my secret.

My intercom blares. "Sir, Agent Mulder would like to speak with   
you." I wonder how long he wrestled with Kimberly before she   
called me. Persistance, thy name is Mulder.

I brace myself for the argument I know is coming. "Let him in."

"Sir, you are putting yourself in danger by not letting us   
research SR 819." I know it was too good to be true when he didn't   
approach me after our meeting a week ago.

"My decision is final, Agent Mulder." My concern for his safety,   
THEIR safety prompted that decision. I intend to be the only one   
put under Krycek's electronic knife.

"Sir, that man is still on the loose. I saw him when I entered the   
building this morning."

I stare at him and nearly bolt out of my chair. "Did he touch   
you?" In one second flat my AD exterior flew out the window,   
leaving my panic clear for him to see. I don't want Krycek using   
him, THEM, as he is using me. That bastard obviously isn't done   
yet.

Mulder seeks to calm me. "No, Sir. He was just watching Scully and   
me enter the building. I chased after him, but he was gone." 

How can I calm down with the weight of three people's lives on me?   
Not even that voice that thrills me with its tone of persistance,   
loyalty. . .Control, Skinner! He must not know! Keep him safe; the   
rest is irrelevant. "The case is closed, Mulder. Let it be."

Exasperation stiffens his movement. I can see that Mulder wants to   
lash out at me. He must think my by-the-book attitude has thwarted   
his quest for the truth. He couldn't be more wrong. I've become an   
expert at hiding lately. Intentions, motives. . . feelings, all   
hidden from view to ensure that Mulder's quest continues. But not   
with SR 819. It's too dangerous. Politically he would be ripped to   
shreds if he probed too deep. And his blood would be on my hands.   
The blood of my. . .STOP IT!

Mulder must have seen the conflict in my eyes because he looks at   
me questioningly. But I cut him off before he can say anything.   
"Is there anything else?"

"No, Sir." His eyes search me one last time before he walks out   
the door.

I fall back into my chair, exhausted, troubled. I know Mulder and   
Scully will go after Krycek, with or without my help. That makes   
my search for him all the more urgent. I must get the answers or   
die trying so that my reason for living can live for me.

Goddammit! Why did I have to go and fall in love with Fox Mulder?

******************************************************************  
Chapter 2: I Am Not Convinced

First, I am not convinced that Skinner doesn't know who that man   
is.

In fact, I'm convinced he *does* know. The way he brushed off the   
pictures and our request convinced me of that.

Then there is that look in his eyes today. I am not convinced he's   
dealing with the aftermath of SR 819 by the books. For a second,   
he looked haunted, as if he's trying to deal with the devil. 

I saw something else behind his eyes when I barged into his office   
today. It surprised me. He looked at me almost affectionately. Or   
was he only comisserating with the downtrodden? Either way, I   
think if I start investigating SR 819 again, he won't say a word.   
He's still involved. He may need help. And I will help him. I   
don't want anything to happen to Skinner. He's risked his career   
and his life to help Scully and me. I owe him. 

But right now I'm growing bored with this telephone conversation   
with the fiftieth person I've had to run a background check on   
today. "No Mr. Carter, I'm not accusing you of anything. This   
is a routine check."

As I finish the call, Scully comes back to our section of the   
office. She smiles at me as she grabs her coat. "I'm going home   
Mulder. It's your turn to pick up breakfast in the morning."

"Doughnuts ok Scully?"

"Get me a bagel instead."

"Ok. Goodnight, see you tomorrow." Scully waves as she makes her   
way to the front lobby. 

Scully, my best friend, my soulmate. At this point in time I can't   
live without her, and she does not want to live without me. But   
there is nothing physical between us. I've thrown some hints her   
way that I wouldn't mind something more. She brushed them off. I   
don't let it worry me. Our relationship is solid. If she doesn't   
want anything else, I'm not going to spoil US by pushing her. I   
just have to find other options.

That's the hard part. My reputation precedes me. Not many people   
want to be seen with Spooky Mulder. The few women I've asked out   
since starting the X-files have either turned me down or did not   
extend our relationship beyond a one night stand. And my other   
option. . .Well, I have enough of a reputation. I didn't need   
anyone finding out I like to sleep with men too, so I didn't   
pursue any.

I stare at the computer in front of me, the information on it   
meaningless to me. I sigh. There are days I feel so desperate for   
the touch of another human being that I'd be willing to break my   
rule about not pursuing men. Today is such a day. Oddly enough,   
the image of Skinner with that look in his eyes this morning   
floats through my mind. Stop it, there's no way that's going   
to happen. 

I take a deep breath and try to get back to work.

\--------------------------------------------------------

Two hours and three files later, I finally get ready to call it   
quits. I'm too tired and frustrated to do anything more tonight. 

I gather the files and walk to put them in a bin near the wall   
when somebody calls my name.

"Mulder, don't you ever go home?" Skinner walks toward me, his   
coat on his arm. "I want to talk to you for a minute, if you don't   
mind."

"I was just finishing up some background checks, Sir. What do you   
want?" I know I sound sullen, but all I want to do now is get home   
to my video collection so I can relax.

"I don't want you pursuing SR 819. I know you had plans to look   
into it, but let me keep an eye on the situation for now. I don't   
think anyone else is in danger from that man right now." He looks   
me straight in the eye, daring me to deny my intentions.

His words confirm my suspicion. He knows who that man is. But why   
is he pursuing this alone? That man could kill him. "Sir, it's too   
risky. . ." I barely get this out before he interrupts me.

"Look Mulder, you and I both know that you do good work, but right   
now you can't afford to bend the rules. Kersch already thinks you   
are nothing more than a liability to the Bureau. I'll be ok. I   
don't. . ." Skinner suddenly turns his head away from me, as if he   
wants to hide his thoughts from me.

I look down. His hands are shaking, gripping his coat tightly.   
"Sir?" What the hell has him so agitated? His concern for our   
well-being has driven him to anger and criminal acts, but I've   
never seen him like this.

"I just don't want to see you hurt." His eyes meet mine again. I   
see a flame in them combined with the affection I thought I saw   
this morning. He reaches out to take my hand and grips it tightly.   
"Please, Mulder. Don't do it."

I give him the only promise I can. "I'll stay out of it as long as   
nobody else gets hurt."

He accepts this and leaves me with my thoughts.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

I grab my coat and head toward the outside world. My rush to get   
home to my video collection is forgotten as I try to figure out   
exactly what I saw on Skinner's face today. I know Skinner cares   
what happens to Scully and me, and that he has tried to keep me   
from destroying myself a few times. That doesn't explain what I   
saw today. That was more like how Scully looks when she talks   
about her mom. And there was something else, just a glimmer.

Dare I hope it was attraction? God, I am getting desperate. Even   
if Skinner is attracted to me, acting on the knowledge could get   
us both into a jam. He has enough on his shoulders already.

But I'm still planning a way to act upon my suspicions, searching   
for a way to act on a fantasy I've buried so deep that I haven't   
even acknowledged it until now.

Because I am not convinced I am alone in my lust and desperation.   
I'm not convinced at all.

******************************************************************  
Chapter 3: Persuasion

My desperation and my fantasies are making it difficult to   
function at work.

I see him everyday, usually walking down the hall to and from his   
office. I haven't acted on my suspicions yet, I wanted to wait   
until the crisis with SR 819 was completely over. Well, I don't   
think we've seen the last of the long-haired man, but I haven't   
seen him lately and Skinner's lost that pinched look that was on   
his face for days after I talked to him last. I think it's   
safe to start acting on my plan.

My first opportunity comes when I'm asked to help out with a VCS   
case in Maryland. Although Scully told me Kersch considers me a   
"lost cause," I guess I'm still too valuable to completely throw   
aside. Someone should have told that to the agents I'm working   
with. The minute I walked into sight of Agents Reid and Sarno,   
they started questioning my every move instead those of the   
suspects. To make matters worse, this case involved the ritual   
murders of five children. I have had enough when I make little   
progress due to these two clowns and a sixth child dies.

I make the decision to approach Skinner out of desperation. He   
knows how people respond to "Spooky Mulder." I doubt Kersch knows   
or cares.

"Come in Mulder. Kimberly said you needed to talk to me   
immediately?"

As I explain the situation to Skinner, his face takes on a red   
tone. "Continue your work, I'll have a talk with Reid and Sarno."   
This is said in that gruff voice he tends to take on when trying   
to protect Scully and me.

An inspiration hits me, both to feed some information to Skinner   
and to get those idiots to back off. "Oh, and can you tell Sarno   
to quit making passes at me. I'd take him up on the offer, but I   
don't sleep with people who insult me." It is widely known in   
Bureau circles that Sarno is gay, and he did make one pass at me,   
but it was just a look and a touch on the shoulder. But I know   
he'd view my comment to Skinner as an accusation of sexual   
harassment. It is also a way to suggest to Skinner that I like   
men. Hey, it's a start.

I get a questioning look from Skinner after this but he nods and   
calls for Kimberly to come into his office.

I'm not bothered by Reid and Sarno anymore and the murderers are   
caught before another child could be hurt.

\------------------------------------------------------------------

Only half awake, I gasp as my dream comes back to me. Skinner,   
dead from SR 819, Scully dying of the same, I'm powerless.

My chair rolls slightly as my body squirms. This jolts me awake   
enough to open my eyes. Skinner is staring into my face with a   
worried expression. "Mulder, are you ok?"

"Yes, Sir. Sorry." I look back at him guiltily. I didn't mean to   
fall asleep at my desk. I'm supposed to be waiting for Scully to   
call so I can run checks on the suspects in the case she's working   
on. But it's almost midnight and my insomnia has been in high gear   
this week.

Skinner pulls up a chair from another desk as my phone rings.

"Mulder."

"Mulder, it's me. Why don't you go home and save those checks for   
tomorrow. I don't have any more information to give you right now.   
I'm sorry to keep you there so late. I was hoping we could wrap   
this up tonight."

"It's ok, Scully. I've improved my skills in solitaire. Have a   
good night and I'll talk to you tomorrow."

I hang up and turn toward Skinner, who is looking at me pensively.   
"Is there something I can do for you, Sir?"

"You can tell me what was in your dream that nearly knocked you   
out of your chair." Skinner lays his hand on my shoulder. His   
concerned eyes draw me in. I squirm a little as my body responds   
to his overpowering presence.

"I ah dreamed that Scully was dying again." I turn my eyes away   
from his, trying to get back under control. Too many feelings are   
pulling at me at once: attraction, worry that my dream will   
come true, something pulling at my gut that I don't dare label.

Skinner grabs my chin and forces my head back. "Scully is safe. I   
promise you that." Suddenly, he backs away from me and I can see   
his hand shaking slightly. His face is schooled into a calm   
mask, but for a split second I saw that affectionate look again. 

This time I act. I grab his hand and squeeze slightly, trying to   
convey my thanks, and empathy for his current condition. He smiles   
slightly, then gets up out of the chair. "Go home Mulder. Get some   
real sleep." He then walks back to his office. My eyes follow him,   
but I don't see him glance back even once.

\----------------------------------------------------------------

Three days later, I see Skinner standing by my car as I walk to it   
after a tiring day of tapping the Bureau database for background   
checks.

"Mulder, can I talk to you?"

"Is something wrong, Sir?" I dare not hope that I'm getting his   
attention. 

"It's not work related. Let's go for a drink?"

I agree and suggest a quiet bar a few blocks away from Hoover. We   
each drive in our own cars and meet at the door of the small   
building. Skinner picks out a booth and we order two beers.

Skinner sighs. "Let me be blunt about this. Are you coming on to   
me?"

I don't know what to say. I suddenly am very afraid that I   
misinterpreted his glances and that he is offended.

My fear must show on my face because he continues. "Because if you   
are, I'd like to accept your offer."

I stumble over my words. "Yeah, un yeah I was. Well, uh, how do we   
go about this?"

"Meet me at this motel tomorrow night at eight o'clock. I'll take   
care of getting the room, and some food if you want." He hands me   
an address for a small motel right outside of Alexandria, which   
I've seen and know is relatively clean and quiet.

"Ok. How about some Chinese?"

"Fine, I'll see you tomorrow night." With that, Skinner finishes   
his beer and grabs his coat. He squeezes my shoulder and is gone.

As I finish my own beer, something occurs to me.

I'm about to get what I've wanted for a long time, but all of a   
sudden, I want something more.

******************************************************************

Chapter 4: Lack of Knowledge

I knew exactly what I was getting when I made Mulder that offer   
last night.

He wants sex, a release of tension, nothing more. 

I want it all, love, passion, maybe even commitment later, but   
right now I'll have to take what I can get.

Plans whirl in my head as I grab my coat and prepare to leave my   
office on time, for once. I need to change my clothes, catch up on   
some bills, give myself some time to let this sink in.

When I get to my apartment, I rush through a shower and dress in   
jeans, sneakers, and a tan pull-over sweater. I sit down at my   
small kitchen table and write checks to pay my rent and insurance,   
among other things. All the while, I'm trying to ignore the   
nagging doubts that keep interrupting my routine.

As I go back out the door at seven with an overnight bag filled   
with necessities, these doubts have put butterflies in my stomach   
and have a light sweat covering my body. Am I doing the right   
thing here? Maybe I should have ignored Mulder's cues and just   
left well enough alone. I know I jumped the gun on him. I   
propositioned him before his 'seduction' got past the hand-holding   
stage. Did I scare him off by rushing into this?

My body is working on automatic at this point. I barely remember   
driving and stopping for various containers of Chinese takeout   
before I reach the small motel. It's 7:45 as I stop at the   
reception desk to get the key to the room. I must be scaring the   
teenager at the desk with my gruff tone. His hands shake even more   
than mine when he hands me the key.

As I park my Buick in the appropriate spot and walk over to open   
the door, I see Mulder's Taurus pull up. Suddenly, I can barely   
hold the key steady enough to fit it into the lock. Somehow I   
manage to get the door open and I beckon Mulder inside as he walks   
toward me. A quick stop back at my car to grab the food and my   
bag, and I come inside and lock the door. Mulder is sitting on   
the edge of the king-sized bed wringing his hands. He too, is   
wearing jeans and a sweater, both black. His leather jacket is   
lying next to him on the bed.

I take the food over to the little table and take off my coat. I   
gesture with my hand to invite him over. "Let's eat. Tell me what   
I'm missing in the main office." I smile slightly, trying to get   
him to lose that pinched look on his face.

"Scully finally solved that case she was working on and is back   
home. Kersch wants to send her out on another one, but she put her   
foot down. I don't think she likes leaving me alone for too long."

I know exactly what he means. Kersch is trying to give Scully a   
shot at a credible job, away from Mulder. She's not biting. In   
fact, she has made her undying loyalty known to the entire Bureau   
to try to get Kersch off her back. I want to lash out at Kersch   
for trying to bury Mulder and pull his only friend away from him,   
but I'm already in hot water. I'm biding my time the best I can.   
In the meantime, I'm doing what I can to slip Mulder some of the   
X-files Fowley and Spender turn their noses up at.

But Mulder doesn't know this. "I don't blame her. You tend to get   
into trouble when her back is turned."

Mulder chuckles at this as he takes a bite of shrimp. Some of the   
tension leaves the room and we share a knowing glance. The X-files   
have cost us both a lot: loved ones, status, pride, health. During   
our exchange of empathetic looks, I vow to work even harder to get   
Mulder and Scully back where they belong: in the basement, saving   
the world from what it doesn't know.

But first thing first. I finish off my broccoli and chicken, and   
toss the containers in the trash. "So, what now?"

Mulder looks at me, slightly shocked. I guess he expected me to   
jump him as soon as he finished eating. Hell, I may be rather   
brusk and no-nonsense at the Bureau, but my personal life is a   
whole different matter. "It's up to you Mulder. We can continue   
this, or we can go back to our respective apartments and forget   
the whole thing."

Nervousness covers his face. "I want to, but I don't know   
how. . ."

"You haven't had sex with a man before?"

"No, it's not that. I've had experience with other guys. But they   
were spontaneous, in dark corners, you know . . ."

"You didn't have to think about it, try to figure out where to   
begin. I've been there, too. Do whatever you are comfortable with   
Mulder. Let's not make this a challenge. It's just a way to relax.   
I know you need that after all that you've been through in the   
past couple months."

Mulder gets up and moves toward the bed. He looks back at me, a   
question on his face. "Will you let me. . .I want to fuck you."

It's not exactly what I had in mind but my heart won't let me deny   
him what he wants. I stand up and grab my bag, extracting a small   
bottle of lube and a condom. His hand shakes slightly as he takes   
them from me and puts them on the night table.

We stand for a minute, staring at each other. I'm waiting for him   
to make the first move. I don't want to scare him. Finally, he   
grabs the bottom of my sweater and pulls it up. I help him   
pull it over my head and toss it in the corner of the room.   
Lightening shoots through me as his hands smooth over my   
shoulders, tickling my nipples. I reach to meld my lips to his,   
but he turns his head away and falls to his knees.

Fumbling fingers unfasten my jeans and pull them, and my   
underwear, toward my ankles in one movement. Those same fingers   
are more adept when they encircle my erection. I barely begin to   
give myself over to the sensations washing over me when I catch   
Mulder's eyes. That's when I notice the change in him. Those hazel   
orbs hold a far away look and his actions have taken on an almost   
mechanical quality. My pleasure subsides noticeably.

But Mulder doesn't seem to notice. He just gets up and strips off   
his clothes quickly. "Get on the bed." I quickly toe off my   
sneakers and pull the clothes off my legs. Mulder watches   
distractedly as I lie down on my back. 

"No, on your stomach." Before I can protest that I want to watch   
him, he is tugging on my arm to pull me face down. I relent,   
concerned that Mulder is not really here with me. His next actions   
reinforce that conclusion. He grabs the condom and lube and   
prepares himself quickly.

Without preparing me at all, his cock shoves into my tight   
opening. I groan in pain. "Mulder, let up a little. It hurts."

His only response is to begin to piston his rod into me, hard.   
Every stroke pulls a gasp of agony from my lips. I turn to try to   
decipher what is going on in his head. His face is strained, with   
his eyes tightly shut. Shock tugs at me when I notice the tear   
tracks on his cheeks.

Mulder's body drives him to completion before I can get the nerve   
up to question him. He pulls out of me quickly. I bury my head in   
a pillow to muffle my scream of pain. His jeans are on him before   
I am able to turn over and look towards him. He catches my eyes   
for a second, then turns his head.

"Uh, thank you, S--." He catches himself before the word is   
finished. He says nothing more but continues to dress rapidly. I   
quickly move off the bed as he shrugs into his jacket.

He jerks away as I reach for his shoulder. "Mulder, where are you   
going?"

"I have to get back to my apartment. Scully will be there soon."   
The lie doesn't sound very convincing, but confusion mutes my   
response. All I can think to do is grab my underwear as he   
hurries out the door.

I finish dressing slowly as I hear a car door slam and a motor   
start. As Mulder's car roars away, I finally turned my thoughts   
back to the specifics of what just happened. 

One thing quickly becomes apparent. Mulder didn't have sex with me   
tonight. 

I don't have any clue what was going on behind his eyes, but I am   
determined to find out. Whatever it is, it's torturing him. I   
doubt he got any pleasure from our coupling.

I grab my things and walk over to the office to hand in the key.

As I get into my car and drive away, one thought occupies me.

How do I save Mulder from his inner demons?

******************************************************************

Chapter 5: The Pain of Prejudice

I have to stop the car on the side of the road about a mile from   
the motel to calm down. My hands are shaking so badly I can't even   
hold the wheel.

What the hell did I just do? Yeah, I know my what my actions were.   
I just fucked my former boss. The hardnosed Assistant Director   
Walter Sergei Skinner. So why do I barely remember any of it?

I wish I didn't have an answer for that too, but I do. I left my   
body while having sex with a man. Again. The tormenting world of   
my mind swallowed me up again, pulling me back into the punishment   
of a past I am trying frantically to escape. But this time I hurt   
someone. There was a trail of blood on the sheet when I pulled   
out of him. Not a lot, but enough to convince me that he wasn't   
safe if I stayed there any longer. 

So I left. I pulled the first lie I could think of out of my   
"genius" mind and ran like a scared rabbit. That confused look in   
his eyes was a too-small punishment for what I had done to him,   
but he let me go without anything more.

What do I do now? I can't face him, not after this. He must think   
I'm psychotic. I'm not so sure I'm not.

Breathe. Try to get under control. After a couple of minutes, I   
drive home, to fight my demons alone.

\--------------------------------------------------------------

Damn, what is he doing here?

As I get off the elevator on the 4th floor, I see him. He must   
have heard the elevator open, because as I walk out, he's turning   
toward me. His glasses hide his eyes, but his face appears calm.

"Agent Mulder, I want to talk to you. Please." He emphasizes the   
last word as he moves to let me open the door. I don't meet his   
eyes, but I gesture for him to walk into the apartment as I flick   
on a light. He looks around for a minute, then seats himself on   
the couch, not bothering to take his coat off. I keep my stance a   
few feet away, and nervously watch his movements.

He doesn't speak until those calm brown eyes meet mine. "Who hurt   
you?" 

How can he be so calm and quiet after what I did to him? He should   
be railing at me, punishing me for what I did to him. Yet he sits   
on my couch and looks at me as if he just asked me what the   
weather will be tomorrow.

Ironically, his calm face makes me see red. "What do you care? I   
gave you what you wanted, didn't I?"

"No you didn't, but that's not the issue here. Who hurt you?" I   
back away towards the door as he gets up and moves to reach for   
me.

"Mulder, let me help you."

"No. No! You won't understand! I--can't.." 

A red haze falls over my sight and I reach blindly to fight the   
demons I feel attacking me. I don't even realize that I'm moving   
until Skinner clutches my hand tightly to keep it from connecting   
with my wall. I lunge at him, enraged further, but he grabs my   
shoulders tightly, preventing me from doing any harm to either of   
us.

He turns me and pushes me backward toward the couch. Struggling   
does nothing to stop this. He pushes down on my shoulders, and I   
drop, my strength suddenly leaving me as exhaustion sets in. He   
plants himself on the coffee table in front of me and grabs my   
hand. It is rare that I'm touched with such tenderness. 

Only the sound of our breathing and the tick of my wall clock mar   
the silence. So tired. . . My eyes droop shut, the feel of his   
strong hand caressing mine soothes me.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

The next thing I know, sunlight is streaming in through the shades   
on my livingroom windows and the smell of coffee pulls me from   
unconsciousness. My eyes open to see one of the pillows and the   
blanket from the waterbed lying on the floor next to me in a heap.   
As footsteps echo from my tiny kitchen, my sight raises to take in   
Skinner walking toward me, two coffee cups in his hands. He gives   
me a cup, which I take gratefully.

"I hope you don't mind. I didn't want to leave you alone last   
night." He gestures toward the blanket on the floor.

"It's fine. Thanks."

His smile is soft and sympathetic, but he doesn't say a word.   
Instead he moves the coffee table back next to the couch and picks   
up the blanket and pillow and returns them to the bedroom. When   
he returns to the livingroom, I'm standing next to the sofa,   
trying to make sense of everything that has happened the last few   
days.

"Mulder." Softly, just enough to get my attention. I turn toward   
caring eyes.

"I can see this is tough for you, but I'd like to understand. What   
is going on?"

Ah, hell, this is my punishment for what I've done. He deserves an   
explanation. I give in and prepare to meet my fate.

\------------------------------------------------------------------

After Samantha was abducted when I was twelve, my parents withdrew   
from life as much as possible. Holidays were silent and grey   
instead of the cheerful celebrations they were before. My steps   
toward maturity, first dates, proms, graduations were ignored or   
met with a degrading comment about my competency at school or in   
social circles. I had to learn to survive on my own quickly, with   
nothing to comfort me. 

When I was seventeen, during the summer before I left for Oxford,   
I met someone who I thought could change all that. 

Steven was twenty, three years my senior, but was as enthusiastic   
about life as a ten year old. He took me to carnivals on the   
mainland, dragged me through Boston to see the sites I usually   
ignored, and taught me the joys of swimming in the water that had   
so often made me sick as I rode its waves with my father.

Steve never cued me in about his sexuality, but before the end of   
that summer, my view of him had changed drastically. He was my   
best friend and confidante. He sat with me in the sand on the   
beach as I cried over Sam and the lost connection with my parents.   
He argued heatedly while I tried to defend the way my parents   
treated me. I was not responsible for Samantha's kidnapping,   
he said. I almost believed him.

During the last few days I was home, I began to touch Steve more.   
Slaps on the back turned into wrestling in the sand. During one of   
our games, my lips accidentally caught his. At that point, time   
stopped. He stared into my flushed face, silently questioning my   
intent. In a sudden burst of realization and nerve, I kissed him   
properly. He returned it with enough passion to make my head spin.

With a few words of agreement, we raced toward my house and up the   
stairs to my bedroom. Our scantily clad bodies were soon naked and   
writhing together on my bed, neither of us realizing that the door   
to the room was still open. Until my father's furious voice   
reached our ears.

We broke apart to see him in the doorway with one of my baseball   
bats in his hands. We tried to protect ourselves, but Dad was too   
quick. Blows fell on my back and legs, knocking me to the floor.   
But his worst damage was to Steve. A strong whack to the side of   
the head had him face-down on my bed, unconscious. His blood began   
to soak my sheets. 

Mom called an ambulance while I was still dazed on the floor.   
Steve was taken to the hospital with the explanation that he hit   
his head on one of my bedposts. I was left in my father's   
'capable' hands.

Mom tried to calm him down, but to no avail. Words like   
'perverted' and 'evil' reached my ears with alarming frequency for   
the next few hours. I spent most of that time on my bed, curled in   
a ball and staring at Steve's blood on my white sheets.

I eventually tried to have sex with another man right after I   
broke up with Phoebe. My father's words echoing in my brain made   
it a less than pleasant experience.

Although I tried, I never could ignore my attraction to people of   
my own sex. I often initiated sex with them, but I never topped.   
And although my body responded to their touches, my mind never   
could get past my father's glaring eyes.

\----------------------------------------------------------------

"I thought if I was in control of the situation, it would be   
better. I'm sorry." Despite my best efforts, tears begin to fall   
down my cheeks.

"I haven't blamed you since it happened. I could tell something   
was wrong when you blanked out on me." His hand caresses my arm   
comfortingly.

My frustration with the whole situation catches up with me. I try   
to wrench away from his hand, but he will have none of it.

"Mulder, *Fox*, look at me!" His eyes gaze calmly at me with that   
look that got me into this situation. "Look, I care for you a lot   
and I want to try to help."

As I back away from him with a sneer of self-derision on my face,   
he growls at me. "Stop it. You are worthy of a caring   
relationship, with whomever you choose. Your father was wrong, and   
what he did to you was inexcusable."

He pulled my resisting form into his arms. "I want to show you   
what you've been missing."

"But what if. . ."

"Shh. Now that I know what happened, I won't let it get that far   
unless I know you're with me. And I won't push you into anything   
you don't want or don't think you're ready for."

His affectionate growl pulls tears to the surface again. My voice   
is quiet as I give him his reply. "Ok."

With that, he pulls my head to his shoulder and rubs a soothing   
hand down my back. My sobs cause me to shudder and I have to grab   
his shoulders to stay upright.

He just stands there and holds me, a rock in the rough waters of   
my life.

Only now do I dare to hope that the storm will end.

******************************************************************

Chapter 6: The Path of Awareness

Real trust isn't built in a day. It takes time and effort.

But trying to foster trust in Fox Mulder is like waiting for an   
ice age to end. 

I learned to be patient through leadership training at Quantico.   
They never trained me for this.

After his outburst Saturday morning, I stayed with him while he   
cried and cursed the entire world for the next few hours. I just   
listened to the sounds of some wounds reopening and others   
bleeding profusely. I held his hand when he let me, but the   
caution in his eyes stilled my more affectionate instincts.   
Although I wanted to, I could do nothing more for him. I couldn't   
make the past all right. So I waited for him to come back to the   
present.

When he finally exhausted himself, we talked. We discussed the   
events that had gotten us to this point and where we wanted to go   
from here. As I expected, Mulder's paranoia was in full gear. He   
didn't want to be seen in public with me unless we were on a case.   
I already risked too much for Scully and him, he said. I talked   
him down to a compromise: We wouldn't be seen in public around DC.   
I had a few vacation spots in mind to take him later. I wasn't   
about to allow Bureau policy and prejudice keep me from showing   
him my world.

We decided that, for now, we would just take it easy and get to   
know each other. So in the last week, we spent time in each   
other's apartment after work, watching sports and bad movies, and   
talking. We talked incessantly about whatever came to mind. X-  
files, likes and dislikes, and even some of Mulder's past became   
topics of hours-long conversations. But when I mentioned Scully,   
he diverted to another subject. He said he wasn't ready to figure   
out how to tell her about us yet. I gave him my sympathy, but   
cautioned him. She's too smart and too close to him to not   
discover this situation sooner or later. It's better if one of us   
discusses it with her, rather than her finding out on her own.

Although we strove whole-heartedly for mental closeness, in the   
whole week, he only touched me four times. He grasped my hands   
twice during a difficult discussion about Samantha. His hand lay   
on my face as I told him of my experience in Vietnam. I counted   
each touch as one step down a very rocky path towards me. I didn't   
reach out to him, except with my voice. My voice that tries to   
soothe and caress his frayed nerves and painful wounds. The hug   
that I received last night after he woke from a nightmare gave me   
hope that were are getting somewhere, that he's starting to trust   
me and himself a little more.

So I sit here thinking about all this in my armchair as the   
setting sun ushers in another Friday night. A book about child   
abuse lays on my lap as I gaze out the window. Mulder told me   
yesterday that he needs some time to think, so I decided to do   
some research to get a more informed opinion on how to help him.

My head whirls with ideas as I get up to make myself some dinner a   
few hours later. I'm so distracted as I dump the pasta into the   
pot that I almost don't hear the doorbell. When it finally   
registers, I turn down the heat on the stove and walk to the door.   
As I look through the peephole, Mulder's agitated figure greets my   
sight. I can see him tugging on the bottom of his leather jacket   
as he waits for the door to open.

As I open the door, a self-derisive grimace twists itself over his   
face. "I'm sorry to bug you--." 

I choose to ignore the attitude. "Come in. I'm just making dinner.   
Are you hungry?" I must've caught him off-guard because he looks   
at me blankly for a minute. Then my acceptance sinks in. "Yeah,   
thanks."

He helps me finish making the simple meal. He is silent as we sit   
down at my small kitchen table with our food. So I venture   
carefully to find out what's on his mind. "Did you have enough   
time to think today? I didn't expect to see you until at least   
tomorrow."

"Yes. No." He leans back in his chair and runs his hand through   
his hair. "I--I want to find a way to get over my damned problem."   
He doesn't need to tell me what problem. I grab his hand and   
hold it tight until his features calm and I know he won't bolt.   
"Don't rush it, Mulder. You've had to deal with your memories for   
a long time. Nothing's going to change overnight."

"But what about you---?"

For a fraction of a second, I see red. "Do you really think I'd do   
anything that might hurt you, just to get my rocks off?" My   
expression must be pretty severe because he immediately lowers his   
eyes to the table. "I don't know. I just don't want. . ."

Those books were good for something. The words 'you to leave me'   
echo through my mind. The scared look on his face confirms my   
guess. I try to ease his mind. "Look, I'm not going anywhere. I   
can wait until you're ready."

The small smile was a relief to me. But his eyes were still   
troubled. "What is it? You're not telling me everything here."

"I, uh, that is, I can't--"

"Tell me." I try to hold his gaze, to reassure him.

"I haven't been able to. . .My video collection. . ."

I smile. I know about that collection. I've come across pieces of   
it over the years. "Need a little relief?"

"Yeah."

"Ok." I get up from the table and move to stand in front of him.   
"I can give you a few of my things or---"

He looks up at me. Suddenly, my body grows warm. His eyes reach   
out to me, hold me. "No. You."

Those two words contain all the trust Fox Mulder can muster. It   
shines through those hazel depths. I'm not sure either of us are   
ready for this, but I dare not let him down.

\---------------------------------------------------------------

After a minute, I grab Mulder's hand and pull him up from the   
chair. We walk together to the living room, to the sofa. I guide   
him to lay down on it as I've seen him do on his own, when he   
sleeps. My glasses are placed on the coffee table behind me. I   
kneel on the floor next to his head and gaze down at him, trying   
to convey the love I cannot speak of yet.

His look reminds me of one that I've seen small children give   
their parents. This is what trust looks like before we try to   
define it, put constraints on it. It makes me want to hide him   
from all the evil that's been thrown at us both.

Instead, I focus on the body before me. I run my fingertips   
lightly down his arms. He shivers as I take his hands and bring   
them to my lips. "Let me do this. You just lie there, ok?"

"But--" I bring one finger to his lips. "Shh. I want you to feel   
it, feel *me*."

I hold his gaze as my hands drift slowly under his t-shirt. I   
silently watch in amazement as his face reflects his pleasure when   
I smooth my fingers up his chest and over his nipples. I move my   
hands back down and pull the hem of the shirt toward his head. He   
lifts himself from the couch slightly to help me pull it off him.

I listen intently to his gasps as my lips replace my hands. I   
smooth open kisses over his collarbones, over his well-developed   
pectoral muscles. When my tongue touches a small nub, I feel him   
push up toward me. His hand reaches to wrap around my head,   
holding me there. I oblige him, hardening the nipple with my lips   
and tongue until he's had his fill and his grip loosens.

As I move my head toward his abdomen, his body shifts, tightens. A   
warning bell goes off in my head and I look up toward his face.   
I'm starting to lose him to his memories. After a second of shock,   
I quickly move my hands to his head, to direct his gaze to mine. I   
call him back quietly. "Mulder. Hey, I'm here. It's just us.   
Shhh." I keep my voice slow and quiet, drawing him carefully from   
the depths of his mind. When I'm satisfied I have him back, I let   
my hands rest on his abdomen, just sharing my warmth. I watch his   
expression shift to one of dismay as he realizes what just   
happened.

"Hey, it's ok. Can you tell me what happened? Did I do something   
wrong?"

His teeth worry his lip and he shifts his eyes toward the back of   
the couch. "No, it's me--"

"Don't blame yourself for your father's crimes. He caused this,   
not you." I sigh. "We don't have to do this. I can let you. . ."

"No! I want you to do this. Just. . .Just keep watching me, ok?" I   
am puzzled, then suddenly realize what he means. He must have been   
focusing on my eyes to keep himself grounded in the here-and-now.   
He slowly drifted back into the past when I drew my gaze from his.

"If you're sure?" He nods his head slightly. At that, my hands   
resume their quest to soothe and arouse.

This time his vocalizations are louder and sound more intense. His   
hands cover mine to guide them to sensitive spots on his abdomen.   
His eyes close momentarily as a gasp wrenches through him, but a   
second later his hazel depths swallow me up again. My body hardens   
at the fire in his eyes. The small, still-coherent part of my mind   
rejoices.

My hand is finally guided to his erection. I run my fingers over   
its covered hardness then, careful not to look away from him, I   
slowly unfasten and slide down the barriers to my caresses. We   
both moan as I wrap my hand around his cock's hot length. Pleasure   
makes his eyes widen as I smooth my finger over the sensitive   
parts of the tip, the underside. But he is already too far gone   
for that to suffice. "Walter, please!"

I give him what he wants. My hand tightens around him, pulling   
slightly as I start a rhythm. His groans inflame me, urging me on.   
As I increase the speed of my hand, his voice sparks through my   
body and my heart. "So good. . .Oh God! Walter!" His eyes go wild   
and finally unlock from mine as his body arches and semen splashes   
on my hand and his stomach.

I smile at him, my body still aroused but my mind calm. His   
returning smile is a thousand watts strong and gleeful. "I never   
knew I could. . .Thank you."

"The pleasure was mine."

A mischievous glint appears in his eyes suddenly. "No, but it will   
be."

Then, before I could protest or question him, Mulder wraps a hand   
around the back of my head and pulls me down. God, his lips are so   
sweet. His mouth plunders mine, searching, finding his passion   
returned tenfold. I come up, gasping for air, then fall back for   
more. Control is slipping away, I'm drowning in fire.

Oh God, his hand! What is he-- After cupping my cock through my   
jeans, he undoes the buttons and slides them and my underwear   
down. I try to utter a protest, to tell him I don't need this, but   
his mouth swallows the words before they can be spoken. He pulls   
back from my lips as his hand begins to echo the movements of mine   
earlier. "It's ok, Walter. Let me show you the gift you gave me."   
The singing in my soul helps him wipe away the shreds of my   
control.

"Mull-der!" Ahh, his mouth! What is he doing?! My eyes can barely   
focus on his dark hair as he swallows my length slowly. His tongue   
reaches for and finds every spot that makes me groans, gasp, and   
wail. God, I can't-- The murmurs of pleasure coming from the mouth   
covering my cock are the last straw. Stars shoot behind my eyelids   
as I'm caught on a livewire, jerking as the sweet jolts fly though   
me and my seed is spilled into his waiting mouth.

I catch myself before my weight falls onto him, and look to see   
him, amazed, pleased with himself. I laugh softly, a low rumble   
in my throat. I move my lips to his to taste our flavor, then fold   
my body against the couch and rest my head on his chest. 

I smile as I hear his whispered "Thank you."

No, thank you, Mulder. Your trust has made me complete.

******************************************************************

Chapter 7: Belief in the Self

When I look back on that day, I have to hide from people. My body   
still reacts with arousal and my face takes on this look of   
wonder. I know, I was shaving and looking in the mirror once when   
it happened. The great event happened a week ago. I had sex with   
Walter Skinner and didn't feel the pain from memories, from my   
father's strong disapproval. Wow. 

Since that Friday night, we've spent every night together. He   
listens to my frustrations with Kersch with empathy. I don't think   
he likes the man much. He growls when I tell him what Scully has   
heard Kersch call me. I don't bother with the man. I think making   
friends with him is pointless. He has been acting like the spy I   
thought Scully was, so long ago.

Every day, Walter shows me what I was missing when I was so caught   
up in my past. His simplest touch can blow my mind because of the   
passion behind it. When I came to his apartment on Tuesday night,   
I barely had the door closed before he kissed me, just a light   
peck on the lips. I was so overcome by the feeling behind that   
small caress that I had to back him against the wall by the door   
and show my appreciation. I'm going to have to dryclean my coat. I   
dont want Scully seeing the semen stains.

I've gotten my reactions a little more under control since then,   
but it still amazes me that the man truly cares for me. What did I   
do to deserve this? I thought Scully was a gift. Walter is the   
grand prize in a almost-hopeless sweepstakes. I'm almost afraid to   
blink, he might disappear.

But I've survived this week and actually enjoyed it. Walter chased   
away my fears with a touch of his hand and a growl that I came to   
recognize as Tell-me-now-and-get-it-over-with. He listened to my   
fears and we discussed solutions. My fears don't get time to begin   
eating away at me now. 

And the physical side of us? It just keeps getting better, even   
though we don't do anything more complex than we did that first   
night. And Walter insists that I be able to see his eyes if I need   
to. I've had to pull his face up from my nether regions a couple   
times. He never protests or even questions me during these times.   
He just holds my gaze and waits until the pain leaves before   
asking me if I want to continue. I haven't refused yet, and I   
don't think I ever will.

So why am I shaking now, sitting on the waterbed that mysteriously   
got planted in my bedroom a couple weeks ago? Because I'm planning   
to give him what up until now I couldn't: My complete trust. I'm   
going to trust him to keep me grounded while using my body for his   
pleasure. No, that's not right. To give us both pleasure. If   
that's possible. I hope it is, I don't want Walter disappointed in   
me.

Damn. I have to stop drowning in my own psyche. Usually Scully   
helps me sort this type of thing out. But my paranoia has extended   
toward her of late. After I sort this out with Walter, I have to   
repair the damage to my partnership. It's hard maintaining one   
relationship while growing another.

Time to stop thinking and start doing. I get up and put new sheets   
on the bed. Since we decided to meet at my apartment today, it's   
my turn to get the food. I grab the phone and order from the   
Chinese place not far from here. My apartment has been cleaner   
than it has been in awhile, due to my mysterious redecorator and   
Walter's obsession with putting everything in its proper place. So   
picking up the few stray things takes only a few minutes. Now all   
I can do is pull out the file Kersch wants completed by Monday and   
wait for the food and my lover.

\------------------------------------------------------------------

Seven o'clock on the dot. I hear the knock on my door. The food   
just arrived fifteen minutes earlier. I finish putting the file   
away and go to let him in. He smiles at me as I notice the bag in   
his hand. "Good beer. Not the stuff you get for $1.50 for a six-  
pack."

I smile in appreciation as I let him in. Walter spots the   
containers of food on the coffee table and sniffs the air. "You   
ordered from the Garden, didn't you? Wonderful." He never   
complains about my perchance for take-out. He just makes his   
preferences of restaurants known to me.

We sit down and begin pulling open the containers. As we do, he   
lets me in on his plans to try to upset our current positions in   
the Bureau. "Spender and Fowley have deliberately ignored cases.   
Not only the cases you would have jumped at because they involve   
crop circles. They've also ignored the murders and kidnappings   
that have been passed down to them."

I think my nervousness has impaired my brain. I can't see what   
he's getting at here. "So?"

"So, they are neglecting some important cases. Some that may not   
be X-files, but VCS cases that need more imaginative thinking than   
VCS can produce. Kersch has stopped me from getting them to you   
directly, so I'm going to file a reprimand on those two and see if   
I can pull you back to the basement. That ok with you?"

"Yeah, but do you think it'll be enough?"

"Probably not, but it's a start. Be patient."

"What about Krycek?" Walter finally confessed to the identity of   
the man who gave him SR 819. I was furious when I found out that   
he was trying to deal with the rat by himself, but he assured   
me he'd tell me if he sees the turncoat again.

"This might be exactly what he wants. I don't know why, but . . ."   
He trails off, and just shrugs his shoulders.

I let it go. Normally, I'd want all his ideas about Krycek's   
intent, but tonight my mind is elsewhere. He notices my   
distraction after a few minutes. "What's on your mind, Mulder? I   
don't usually get off that easy."

"Umm. . . It's nothing." Damn, I get to this point and I don't   
know what to say. "I uh, just wanted to ask you about trying   
something."

"Ok, so ask and stop looking as if I'm holding a gun to your head.   
Nothing you can ask is going to make leave here out of anger." I   
thought Scully was the only mindreader in my life. I sigh,   
trying to get my nerve up.

"I want you to fuck me tonight." I don't like the way I sound,   
like a meek child, but at least I said it.

"Are you sure you're ready for that? I don't want to hurt you.   
Physically or *emotionally*."

"But I know you want to. I don't want to hold out on you."

Wrong thing to say. His face turns red but his voice remains calm,   
as always. "Look, I don't think you're holding out on me. I think   
you've been hurt and need to heal. Healing takes *time*."

Patience has never been my strong suit. "I've had it up to here   
with waiting! I want to get over this *now*, before it starts   
impairing what we have!" My voice echoes through the apartment as   
it did when I found out about Krycek. Only now I realize how angry   
I am at myself for letting my memories get the best of me.

"Calm down. I'm not going anywhere. We have to talk about this   
first, before *we* decide if this is worth the risk. Tell me about   
your other times, after Steven. Maybe we can figure out what   
not to do, at least."

He leans back towards one side of the couch, his large back wedged   
between the arm and the back. I put my empty container down and   
lean back against him.

"They weren't, uh, as personally involved as you are. Denis, a guy   
I met in England after I broke up with Phoebe, was the first. I   
met him at a bar right outside of the campus. We exchanged names,   
and he took me back to his place. We got right down to business,   
not much foreplay. He had me on my hands and knees within five   
minutes. I don't think he even noticed that I was soft the whole   
time."

"Was this the first time you had trouble being aroused? What about   
Phoebe?"

I wish he'd stop the mindreading. It's disconcerting. "I had   
trouble at the end of our relationship. I put that down to having   
my eyes opened about how much a bitch she is."

"Did you have trouble with other women?"

"No, except maybe for Diana, if you consider a mutual stopping of   
sex as trouble."

"Ok. So tell me what you think about when you 'blank out'." I   
actually appreciate that he's getting almost clinical-sounding in   
his questions. It makes removing myself from the pain easier.

"My father's voice, mostly. He ranted for hours after they sent   
Steven to the hospital. And I remember how much his voice hurt,   
not just because of what he was saying. He was telling me I   
was a no-good cocksucking freak, but that wasn't what I remember   
the most. I hit my head pretty hard, probably when I fell off the   
bed. I don't remember exactly. His voice pounded through my   
brain in more ways than one that night. I feel that pounding when   
I disconnect."

I look up at Walter's face, trying to gauge his thoughts. His   
returning look is gentle but not all there. I start to get up from   
the sofa. "If you don't want to do this. . ."

That brings him back to me, instantly. He pulls me back down.   
"Knock it off. Give me a second to absorb this, then we can decide   
what to do."

Now that I'm paying better attention to him, I can almost see the   
gears in his mind turning. I guess not all my snap judgments are   
accurate. After a few minutes, his arms tighten around me.

"Do you believe what your father said to you?"

All of a sudden, I'm speechless. Do I? Is part of my mind telling   
me I'm such a fuck-up that I'm not worth the pleasure I seek? I   
sit up straight on the couch, thinking. Skinner moves to sit next   
to me, quietly watching me wring my hands.

He speaks after a few minutes. "I don't know what all your other   
'lovers' thought, but when I look at you, I see a brilliant man,   
with the perseverance and stamina to take on some of the most   
powerful people in the world and win. Who you sleep with does   
nothing to alter my opinion."

A weight suddenly drops off my shoulders so hard I can almost hear   
the impact with the ground. I look toward Walter in amazement.   
"How could I believe his shit? How the hell?"

"You were a kid. Even at seventeen, it's hard not to want your   
parents' approval. But they were wrong, in what they said and what   
they believed. Scully probably could tell you even more clearly   
than I can how wrong they were. Give yourself the credit that's   
your due. And accept the love we are giving you. You are more than   
worth it."

He is giving me what? I know Scully loves me, but Walter?

"Yes I love you, you dolt. Now, I think we can do what you asked,   
if you still want to." He gets up and holds out his hand. I accept   
it without hesitating and let him pull me up. We go into the   
bedroom with our hands linked, his warmth channeling through his   
hand and spreading throughout my body.

\---------------------------------------------------------------

When we get inside the room, Walter suddenly pushes me on the bed,   
smiling goofily down at me. He tickles my sides and the laughter   
bubbles up. God, that feels almost as good as our lovemaking this   
week. I pull him down onto me for a kiss. "What the hell do you   
think you're doing? Sex is serious business, you know." But there   
is laughter in my voice. For the first time with him, I'm not   
scared. And that realization is making me higher than a kite.

And he knows it. "I'm with the brilliant rule-breaker of the FBI.   
So I'm breaking the rules." His kisses on my neck make me squirm,   
so I return the favor by reaching under his turtleneck to squeeze   
his nipples lightly. His low growl is my reward.

A wrestling match ensues as we each try to get the clothes off   
each other, laughing at each tangle we get into until we are both   
naked. Then, the temperature climbs twenty degrees as his eyes   
flash with the love and passion he is so generous with when I'm   
around. His kiss draws my body to his like a magnet, our erections   
brushing together. Waves of pleasure blend together as our hands   
seek and caress all the spots we know produce moans and heat.

"More, Walter. I want more." I whisper in his ear. My newly-found   
confidence has made me demanding. But Walter just smiles and moves   
down my chest. His warm mouth takes my cock in, all at once. I see   
stars. But I force myself to hold off. I don't want to come just   
yet. "Walter!"

"Yes?"

"Fuck me already!"

He laughs, delighted at my words. I can see his approval on his   
face. "Ok, stay there for a second." He gets up and grabs the   
bottle of lubricant I put on the night table earlier.

When he comes back to the bed, he motions for me to spread my legs   
and kneels between them. His eyes swallow my gaze as he puts   
lubricant on his fingers and enters me for the first time with   
one finger. God! He hits my prostate on the first try. My eyes   
close. I'm too overwhelmed with the pleasure to be able to handle   
anything else. My body rocks as he pushes a second finger in and   
starts moving them inside me.

"Mulder." His soft voice calls me from the haze. I force my eyes   
open to see his body over mine, his hand still moving inside me.   
"Ready?"

"Yesss." The word comes out as a hiss, as he hits my prostate   
again. I groan softly as he removes his hand and grabs the bottle   
of lubricant again. Once his cock is coated with the stuff, he   
positions himself. Our eyes lock together as he enters me slowly.

Jesus, this was what I was missing! Our groans echo in unison as   
the pleasure hits me. I grab his arms and wrap my legs around his   
back to pull him deeper. He takes that as a cue and pulls out of   
me slightly, then pushes back in as far as he can. My moans become   
a constant counter-point to his rhythm, growing louder as he moves   
faster.

The pleasure builds until I hear an "I love you" whispered under   
his breath. That sends me tumbling over the edge into oblivion,   
without him ever touching my cock. His groan of completion comes   
seconds later and he falls against me.

I kiss the top of his head, thankful to him for this gift, of   
himself, so freely given. I feel him pull me tighter against his   
body as he moves to my side. "Ok?"

"More than ok. Thanks."

"Thanks for what?"

"For giving me my spirit back."

He growls affectionately as I rest my head on his shoulder. We   
fall asleep locked together, protecting each other from the rest   
of the world.

\-------------------------------------------------------  
Here ends Karma: Conviction

**************************************  
Karma Interlude: On a Sunday Afternoon  
by Ladyhawk   
**************************************

What a day! The sun is shining, the air is crisp, and it takes   
little effort for my feet to hit the pavement as I run through the   
neighborhoods of Crystal City. My feet move me back to place from   
whence I came eagerly. As I near the apartment, Walter becomes my   
center of attention.

He has struggled so hard to get Scully and me back to our rightful   
place. After Spender and Diana disappeared unexpectedly, he moved   
at lightspeed to pull us back into that gap. He succeeded, but not   
without cost. He has been exhausted the last week, both mentally   
and physically. I spent Friday night watching him talk to the   
Director on the phone, pleading our case. I cleaned his apartment   
yesterday to ease my conscience and keep me occupied while he   
spent the day at the office, preparing for our transfer. Each   
night I put him to bed with a struggle. He wanted to do more,   
right up until his head hit the pillow and body pulled his mind   
away from consciousness.

Walter finished the last preparatory steps this morning. When   
Scully and I walk in tomorrow morning, we walk right past the   
communal office and straight to our basement home. We have so much   
to do. . .but that's for later. Right now I'm hoping Walter took   
my advice and went back to bed after I left for my run. 

I stop at the corner in front of a coffee shop. Smiling at my   
thoughts, I go inside and grab two coffees and two sinfully rich   
danish. I know Walter has barely tasted the food I periodically   
put in front of him to keep him going. I was so worried and   
checked on him so often, Scully began asking if I he was ill or   
something. Luckily, my reply that I saw a long-haired man near   
his office got her to help me keep an eye on him.

I walk up the stairs to the building and use the keys Walter gave   
me to open the doors. I put the paper bags on the table near the   
door and absorb the sight before me.

Walter is lying on the couch, asleep. The Sunday paper is lying   
loosely in his hands, draping his legs. His glasses are perched   
precariously on his nose. He must have shifted them in his sleep.

I grab for the glasses before they can tumble to the floor. This   
is enough to wake him. A second later he is smiling gently up at   
me. "Hi."

"Hi. I bought some coffee and pastries, if you're hungry."

"Still trying to look after me, huh?" He shifts so he is now   
sitting. "Let me see what you have."

After handing him one of the cups, I open a bag to reveal two   
chocolate covered danish, huge and glistening with the sugar   
coating.

"You're plotting to kill me with sugar, aren't you?" He grins at   
me and grabs for one.

I perch myself on the coffee table as we eat our snack in silence.   
We choose instead to speak with smiling glances and sticky hands   
that trail over arms and faces, just to connect with each other.   
Once I finish my danish, I get up to take a shower and leave   
Walter some time to rest.

But I'm grabbed by the shirt before I move two steps. An   
affectionate growl rumbles in my ear. "Where are you going?"

"To get cleaned up. I'm all sweaty, and you probably could use   
some more sleep. . ."

"A shower sounds good." I didn't know how much I've missed that   
small, mischievous twinkle in his eyes until now, when it suddenly   
reappears. He pulls me with him toward the bathroom.

It doesn't take my genius mind to figure out what he's planning,   
but still I hesitate. "But you've worked to hard this week, you   
should. . ."

He cuts me off with a gentle kiss. "Hush. This week hasn't only   
been hard on me. You had to sit and wait for me to get this ball   
rolling. I know that's hard for you. And I've spent so much time   
helping *Agent* Mulder that I've neglected other parts of you."

"But Walter--"

"Shh. No arguments about my health. I caught up on some sleep   
while you were out. Now I need to catch up on some love." His   
strong arms wrap around my shoulders as his face nuzzles the   
sensitive part of my neck.

His warm lips on my neck shoot sparks of electricity through me,   
making me forget the argument. My knees weaken as his mouth moves   
up toward my face, leaving a trail of shivers behind it. I have to   
lean against his muscular frame to stay upright.

His chuckle warms me even more as he locks one arm around my   
waist. "Having problems, Agent Mulder?"

"Not anymore, thanks to you." Thanks to you I have my life, my   
career, and someone to share it all with. My answering smile is   
lost on him as he moves his gaze to his hands, which are pulling   
my t-shirt up and off me.

We help each other remove the rest of our clothes, using it as an   
excuse caress the parts we uncover. When we are both naked, Walter   
turns on the shower and I follow him into the hot stream of water.

Hot water sensitizes my skin as he grabs the soap and lathers a   
washcloth. Strong strokes of his hand covered with the cloth   
soothe me as they wipe away the sweat I gathered on my run. The   
comforting yet arousing movements overwhelm me, forcing my eyes   
shut. I can feel his soul reaching out to mine in every move he   
makes. He gives so freely even though I'm not ready to give back   
completely. Soon, it will be easier. Soon, I may be able to wake   
up without expecting him to have left me while I sleep.

But for now I accept all he gives and give him what I can. I grab   
the bar of soap off the wall holder and lather my hands. My hands   
glide over the strong muscles defining his chest and his arms.   
Soft lips greet mine as our mouths melt together. I pull him   
closer and hear the washcloth drop at our feet.

Our erections rub together as we cling tightly to each other. My   
hips move involuntarily to the rhythm of our kisses. But when I   
shift my weight, I begin to lose my footing.

"Time to get out of here." Walter reaches behind me to turn off   
the water. I reach outside the shower curtain to grab two towels.   
We quickly dry each other off, our strokes interspersed with   
kisses. We walk into the bedroom hand in hand.

I lay down on the bed and pull Walter down on top of me. His   
weight is as comforting as it is arousing. I reach to touch his   
hardness, stroking. His moan quickens my heart and my breathing.   
But before I can do anything more, he flips us over so my startled   
face is staring down at his.

"Walter, what--?"

"I want you to do something for me."

"Anything."

"I want you to fuck me."

"But--" The last time I did that I still was trapped by my own   
mind. I hurt him, badly. After he rescued me from myself, I vowed   
to never cause him that kind of pain again. Sex between us was   
always good after that, but he always had the reins.

"Mulder, I trust you." His eyes reflect this trust to me. How can   
I refuse him after he's given me so much?

"O--Ok." I grab for the lubricant on the bedside table with a   
shaking hand. His hawk-like eyes see my nervousness. He grabs my   
hand and brings it to his lips. The rest of my body begins to   
tremble for a different reason as he pulls my index finger into   
his mouth and begins to lave it with his tongue. The hand not   
holding my wrist snakes down my chest to the hardness below. His   
fingers stroke over the head and down its length. My groan bounces   
off the walls and back to my ears with startling volume.

Walter lets go of my hand and reaches for the bottle of lubricant   
I dropped on the bed. Catching my eyes with his gaze, he turns my   
hand over so he can pour some of the slippery liquid onto my palm.   
He smiles at the question in my face and shifts upward on the bed   
so I can reach his puckered entrance more easily.

I warm the lubricant in my hand and enter him with a coated   
finger. I watch in amazement as he shouts in pleasure when I hit   
his prostate. The sound shoots straight to my cock, making it   
pulse with our breathing. I no longer hesitate. I want this as   
much as he does. A second finger enters him, stretching him gently   
for what is to come.

But Walter has had enough of the foreplay. "Do it, Fox."

The name I have hated for most of the years of my life has in one   
second become the most arousing endearment I have ever heard. That   
husky whisper wipes clean the pain I always have associated with   
those three letters. Another chunk has just fallen off of the   
melting wall of ice I have used to protect my heart until Walter. 

The wild light in his chocolate gaze spurs me on. I quickly coat   
my erection with the lubricant and position myself to enter him.   
As my cock slowly enters his tight channel, the overwhelming   
sensations force my eyes close. I feel my arms being grabbed as   
Walter's body arches up to mine, pulling me deeper. I pause when I   
am completely imbedded in him, savoring tight caress of his body   
around my cock.

Walter impatiently grabs my hips as his legs wrap around me. I   
respond to his silent request by starting a slow rhythm. My hand   
grips his erection, already leaking fluid. I smooth my fist up   
and down his hardness in rhythm with my thrusts. His head thrashes   
on the pillows and our moans echo one another as I speed up.

The double stimulation becomes too much for my lover. His body   
arches as semen shoots out of his cock and his sphincter muscle   
contracts. The unexpected pull on my erection spills me over the   
edge and I come with one last thrust. My weight collapses   
comfortably into his arms.

I pull out of him with some effort. A pleasant weariness makes my   
movements slow. I cuddle against his chest with a contented sigh.

"I love you." His words float to my ears, this time like every   
time since the first. I kiss his lips in response.

I'm not ready to say the words to him yet, but maybe, just maybe,   
I can hear my heart repeating that small sentence.

\------------------------------------------------

*********************************  
Karma book 2: Devotion  
by Ladyhawk   
********************************

Chapter I: Friendship Versus Love

"When are you going to do it, Fox?" Walter glares at me angrily   
over our dinners. "It's been six months. How much longer do you   
intend to keep her in the dark?"

"Does she really need to know?" I know I'm whining, but this is   
one conversation I don't want to have, either with Walter, or the   
woman in question, Dana Scully. "I've been able to keep it secret   
this long without a problem."

Walter snorts, unimpressed. "It's causing a problem between you   
two. I can see it when you try to talk in my office. Your   
'togetherness' is missing." He picks up our half-filled plates.   
Neither of us has much appetite once we start arguing.

"She's just mad about. . ." I don't dare bring up *her* name.   
Scully must have communicated her concerns about Diana to Walter   
right before the Consortium's cover blew. And how do you explain   
that a kiss can be out of habit? It took me days of arguing before   
Walter even began to understand. Damn Frohike and his bugs,   
anyway!

Now, months later, I still can't say Diana's name without him   
seeing red. He doesn't trust her, and he doesn't trust me when I'm   
near her, physically or in thought. Both he and Scully insists   
that Diana led me on the whole time. There are days that I wonder   
if he and Scully are right, that I let her stomp all over me just   
because she once said that she loved me.

"Give it up, Fox! This isn't about your ex-wife! This is about us,   
and your relationship with your partner. She's your best friend,   
for God's sake!" Why is this making him so angry? What I tell   
Scully shouldn't have any affect on what Walter thinks of me,   
right?

I watch helplessly as he starts pacing. I can't tell what's going   
on in that steel trap of his, but I'm afraid to interrupt him to   
ask. I'm afraid of what his answer might be.

"Look, I have to get some air." He looks toward me and sees my   
fear. "I'll be back, I promise. I just need to calm down before I   
can discuss this."

I watch him go out the door, silently praying that I didn't screw   
up another relationship.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

I get up and wander around Walter's apartment, thinking. Why won't   
I tell Scully that Walter and I are involved?

I'm definitely afraid of what Scully will say. She's my best   
friend and all, but will her feelings for me override her   
religious beliefs? Catholicism is rather strict on its beliefs   
about alternate lifestyles. I really don't want her to look at me   
in disgust because I'm bisexual. Skepticism I can take, but I   
don't think I could cope if Scully thought I was unfit to be in   
her company.

And as if that wasn't enough. . .I'm scared of Walter. He's been   
so kind to me these last few months. So is now when things are   
going to start going bad? They always do, at least around me.   
Is this where I royally screw up, by not telling Scully about us?   
Will he think I'm not good enough, not strong enough for him?

I don't even know if I'm strong enough for him. He wants love,   
commitment, the whole ball of wax. Can I really give that to him?   
He even tells me he loves me, and has almost from the beginning. I   
don't doubt his feelings. The man is, and has always been, the   
most sincere person I've known. But does he love me, or what he   
thinks he sees? Hell, I've made that mistake twice myself with   
Phoebe and Diana. Can I be the man he loves and give him the love   
he so dearly deserves? I wish I knew, so I could do it or stop   
leading him on.

Maybe I should just leave. It would probably be easier on him if I   
just went. He wouldn't have to fight with me, or try to make me   
good enough for him. And I wouldn't have to see him look at me   
with contempt when I disappoint him. I grab my jacket, getting   
ready to run. . .

"Where do you think you're going? We have to talk." I whirl around   
to face Walter, looking slightly less angry than when he left. 

"Well, I, uh. . ." Damn, I don't even have the guts to tell him   
I'm saving him some aggravation. His face calms even further. He   
puts a hand on my arm, caressing it lightly.

"I don't want you to leave. I love you. So you better be leaving   
because *you* want to." Damn his mindreading. He knows me too   
well. 

"But. . ."

He looks exasperated. "Fox, we can work this thing with Scully   
out. I just think the secret has gone on too long. It's not the   
end of the world." He searches my face. "It's more than that,   
isn't it?"

I nod. 

"Tell me." He pulls me down on the couch to sit next to him.

I stare at my hands instead of looking at him. "I--I don't want to   
disappoint you. I know I'm not good enough for you. . ."

Walter shoots to his feet. "Stop right there!" I can see his face   
turning red. He takes off his glasses and smooths his hands over   
his face. After a few minutes of silence, he turns to face me.

"Forgive me, Fox. I know it's hard for you. But you have to stop   
living under your father's shadow. You are a good man. There is no   
reason to think you aren't good enough for me." He kneels in front   
of me and clasps my hands in his protectively.

"Walter. . ." How can he not see that I will fail him? I always   
fail. "I want to give you what you want, what you need. . ."

"There is only one thing I need from you, but I'm not sure you're   
ready to give it to me. I'm not going to rush you." He kisses my   
hands lightly and gets up. "When you figure it out, let me know   
the answer, ok Fox?" He smiles gently at my puzzlement. I am even   
more puzzled at his next statement. "Ah hell, maybe that's why you   
can't tell Scully about us."

"What? Walter, what do I need to give you?"

"I can't ask it of you, Fox. If you can't give it freely, it's   
worth nothing." His eyes are compassionate. "I'm probably not the   
one you need to talk to about this. Find a way to talk to her,   
Fox. I know its hard for you, but you need her by your side. As a   
partner and as a friend." 

He waves at the door when I don't say anything after a minute. "Go   
on. I'll be here when you get back."

"What if I can't?" It's hard to risk a friendship like the one I   
have with Scully.

"We'll deal with that if and when it happens."

I sigh and go to grab my coat. I don't know about this.

\----------------------------------------------------------------

I drive to Georgetown mechanically. My mind whirls with possible   
scenarios. She could kick me out, refuse to work with me. She   
could laugh in my face. 

That scares me. That really scares me.

I knock on her door hesitantly. It swings open a second later and   
her pretty face smiles up at me. "Hi, Mulder. What's up?"

"I uh, need to talk to you about something." I lean against the   
doorjamb as my knees start to shake.

"Sure, come in. What's wrong?" We sit down on her couch.

"I need uh, some relationship advice."

"Is your girlfriend giving you a problem, Mulder?"

"How did you know I was seeing someone?"

She smiles at the shock on my face. "I know you've been seeing   
someone for a couple of months. You stopped working late. I've   
been waiting for you to tell me about it. I was getting worried   
when you tried to hide it, but I figured it was none of my   
business."

"Uh, what would you say if I told you I didn't have a   
*girl*friend?" My hands are shaking noticeably now.

"Is that it? Is that why you tried to hide. . ." She grabs my hand   
and squeezes it gently. "Mulder, for God's sake, I'm your partner.   
I don't judge you by who you date. I just worry when they take   
advantage of you, like Fowley did."

Relief collapses upon me. Then the guilt kicks in. "I'm sorry I   
didn't tell you. I let it affect us. . ."

She pats my arm. "It's understandable, Mulder. So what's your   
problem with this guy?"

"Well, uh, Walter says--" Shit. Maybe she didn't notice.

Luck is against me this time. "Walter--Skinner?" She laughs. "That   
explains a lot."

"Huh?" Her reactions aren't what I expected. I have to take time   
to process all this.

"He tried to talk to me a few times when you weren't around. He   
got all tongue-tied though. It was an interesting sight." I raise   
my eyebrow and echo her famous look of disbelief.

"I'm serious. Ask him about it sometime. So, you came here to get   
advice from me about Skinner? Is there something wrong between you   
two?"

"It's me, Scully. I'm not sure I'm giving him what he wants. I'm   
not sure I can." 

"What does he want? Did he tell you?"

"He sort of said that I'd have to figure it out. I don't know why   
he just didn't tell me." I look beseechingly at Scully for an   
answer.

"God, I should've killed Diana when I had the chance. Love,   
Mulder. That's the important part of a relationship. The rest of a   
relationship is mostly compromise. I guess he didn't want to force   
you into saying it if you didn't really mean it."

Love comes with conditions. He must want something more. "But how   
can I love him the right way?"

"Mulder, what is with you? There is no right way. You love me   
don't you?"

"Yeah, but that's different. You accept me as I am."

"And he doesn't? I find that hard to believe, considering how he   
treats the X-files."

As she says that, I begin to doubt myself. Walter hasn't pushed   
me, like Phoebe or Diana. He hasn't berated me, like my father.   
What if Scully's right? That all he wants is my love, in   
whatever form it exists?

Scully echoes my next thought. "So, do you love him?"

I stare at Scully's wall, thinking of the last couple months. The   
joy and wonder Walter has given me, the freedom to be myself, to   
let go of my past. All of it comes flooding into me, filling me   
with a warmth that is familiar. I was just afraid to believe in   
it. "Yeah, I do."

Scully's eyes twinkle at me when I turn my head. "So tell me about   
it."

For the next couple hours I do just that and more. I tell her all   
the secrets I've hidden from her. She laughs and cries with me as   
we relive the past, together this time. I find that I've missed   
Scully while I was hiding from her. 

I guess Walter knew that.

\----------------------------------------------------------------

It's almost one a.m. when I get back to Walter's apartment. It's a   
good thing tomorrow is Saturday because I'm too giddy to get any   
sleep. Too much relief in one day will do that. Not that I'm   
complaining.

The sight that greets me as I open the apartment door makes me   
smile and shake my head. Walter is asleep on the couch. The TV   
flickers in the darkness. I guess I'm not the only one who has   
trouble sleeping alone now. I hate to wake him, but I have to tell   
him. This can't wait until morning.

I kneel by his head and whisper in his ear. "I love you."

I watch eagerly as his eyes open and he turns his head toward me.   
His voice is strained from sleep but it still sweeps over me as if   
it were the finest music. "Fox, did you say something?"

"I love you." 

I am amazed at the transformation on his face. I almost can see   
him glowing as tears well up in his eyes. I gently wipe them away   
as they fall to one cheek. I'm shocked to find his hand reaching   
toward me to return the favor.

We stay like that for minutes, hours, who knows, just sharing love   
through our eyes and the simplest of caresses. Walter breaks the   
silence with one word. "Scully?"

"It's taken care of. She understands and approves. She said to   
tell you that."

"High praise, coming from her." I smile at him, but don't comment.   
I don't really want to discuss Scully right now. I pull on his arm   
instead.

"Come on, Walter. You'll sleep better in bed."

He complies as a laugh leaves him. "Why do I think sleep is not   
really what you have in mind?"

I give him my best innocent look, then spoil it by chuckling. "I   
just figured out I love you. I want to show you as well as tell   
you. You can sleep tomorrow."

He stops me at the bedroom door for a soul-searching kiss. "I   
don't care if I never sleep again."

I pull him into the bedroom, smiling, my soul singing with glee. I   
playfully peel off his clothes, tickling and caressing his body as   
I do so. Shouts of laughter are intermixed with gasps of pleasure.   
Music to my ears and my heart. I stare at his naked glory as I   
whisk away his briefs. Mine, he is mine. As I am his. I wrap my   
arms around those broad shoulders and nuzzle his neck, more   
content than I've ever been before. I can't be more content.

Walter proves me wrong. "I love you, Fox." 

Now I'm in heaven.

I meet his eyes and feel their pull more strongly than I ever have   
before. I let his love wash over me as he removes my clothes.   
Sparks fly as our lips meet. Our hands move to transmit the   
electricity to other parts. Groans echo through the room, but I   
don't know if they are his or mine. It doesn't matter.

I lay back on the bed, pulling Walter on top of me. "I want you   
inside me. Now."

"You wanted to show me. You do it." He rolls us over and kisses me   
deeply. I break away and grab the lube from his night table. His   
groans excite me as I coat his erection, paying particular   
attention to the sensitive spots.

When I'm finished, he pulls me back to his mouth. As his tongue   
plays with mine, I feel a finger entering me. Oh, my love. You're   
always taking care of me. I feel another finger join the first,   
stretching me gently.

Now it's my turn to care for you. I motion him into a half-sitting   
position on the bed. The I slowly lower myself onto his cock. I   
watch his face contort with pleasure, amazed. I am the cause of   
his pleasure. It finally sinks in. The realization makes my groan   
of pleasure that much stronger.

Walter grabs my shoulders and urges me on. Our rhythm is quick,   
sharp. We've waited so long for this day. I need to feel that   
sense of oneness in body, as I feel it in my heart. I know he   
needs it too.

We climax together, our shouts are simultaneous. I collapse on   
him, exhausted finally. The emotional rollercoaster I was on today   
has taken its toll.

I barely feel Walter pull out of me and shift us to spoon   
together. Sleep is claiming me quickly. But I hear his whispered   
"I love you."

And for the first time, my whisper echoes his.

******************************************************************

Chapter II: Where Does Loyalty End?

What is he going to think? Have I destroyed everything I love in   
order to save myself?

I hold my head in agony. I can't bear to look at the corpse in   
front of me, so I cover my eyes and sit down on a wooden box in   
this desolate warehouse. Yeah, I shot her in self-defense. But   
how do I tell him that?

I turn my head and see Scully approaching me with the question in   
her eyes. "Sir, what happened here?"

I take a deep breath. I can feel myself losing all the control I   
built up over the years. "Agent Fowley demanded information that I   
had hidden. An X-file. When I didn't comply, she pulled out her   
weapon. I defended myself, killing her, unfortunately."

Scully gazes at me sympathetically. We both know this is going to   
be rough on Mulder. "Which X-file?"

"The one on Duane Barry. I made a copy of it right after you were   
abducted. I had a feeling it might be important. If what Barry   
said was true. One of the Spenders must have found out I had it."

"They must have been doing other experiments on him. Other than   
the ones done on me and the other women." Scully takes a hold of   
my arm. I turn toward her and see movement in the distance.   
Mulder is coming, running frantically toward us.

And he is far from sympathetic to my fears. He is a hurricane. The   
pounding I get is fierce. "You killed her! You fucking killed her!   
Was the jealousy too much for you?" He is out of breath just   
saying that. Tears run down his face, unheeded and probably   
unknown by him.

My gun is on the ground. I cannot deny the fact that I did it, nor   
do I want to. But how do I explain it was self-defense when he   
obviously has had trouble separating himself from the betrayer?

But before I can even try, he has me knocked to the ground. His   
eyes are blazing above me, his face full of rage. "She was my   
wife! How could you do such a thing?" His hands are balled into   
fists. I see them coming towards me.

They stop before impact. Scully is holding his fists inches away   
from my face, struggling to keep him still. "Mulder, you don't   
want to do this. Skinner. . .Fowley was going to kill him."

My lover backs away, but the rage is still in his eyes. What can I   
say to get through to him? I get up slowly, wincing at the wounds   
on my back from landing on the concrete floor. "I'm sorry, Mulder.   
I didn't want to kill her." It sounds lame to my ears, but it's   
the best I can do right now.

"Yeah, right." Mulder walks away stiffly. I look at Scully,   
pleading. What do I do here? Her eyes are empathetic, but she just   
shrugs. We have to let him figure this out for himself, as hard as   
it is. I wipe the tears from my eyes as we make our way from the   
scene and report to the police, who have just arrived.

\--------------------------------------------------------------

When I get home, Mulder is nowhere to be found. He hasn't   
officially moved into my Crystal City apartment, but he spends   
much more time here than his own apartment. So I am somewhat   
surprised that he isn't here. And dismayed.

After taking off my coat, I grab the whiskey bottle in my top   
cupboard and pour myself a shot. One gulp, and I pour myself   
another. Before I can swallow that too, the front door opens.

Mulder stares at me quietly when he enters the kitchen. His face   
is calmer than it was a few hours ago. He takes the shotglass from   
my hand. "Tell me what happened, Walter. I think I'm ready to   
listen now."

True to his word, Mulder listens without interrupting. I describe   
the note Fowley sent me, the meeting, the threat, and the shot   
that had me standing next to her corpse. I pace the kitchen,   
afraid to meet his eyes as I relate the events. My voice shakes   
near the end. When I look up at Mulder, I'm not surprised by the   
tears that appear in his eyes, but his moan of agony scares me.

"Oh, what have I done!" He falls against the counter for support   
as his hands go to cover his face. He slides down to the floor,   
still hiding his face with his hands.

Terrified, I kneel beside him. "Fox? What's wrong?"

"I--I reported the incident to the Director. I know I shouldn't   
have without listening to you, but I was furious! I, I wanted to   
hurt you." His eyes shyly look toward me.

Great! At the very least, I will be suspended for the period of   
the investigation. I could get fired for this, maybe arrested if   
the evidence isn't in my favor. I know my face is turning red. I'm   
ready to lash out at Mulder, but I stop myself before I repeat his   
mistake. I remind myself that I love this man.

I take a few deep breaths and try to establish some calm. "What   
did you tell him?"

"I--told him about us. I'm sorry, Walter. I didn't think." He gets   
up to grab his coat, presumably to leave me, to run. 

The patience I have tried to maintain every time we fight finally   
snaps. "Will you for once deal with me head on?! I'm sick of you   
trying to run every time something goes wrong!"

"But--I might have. . .gotten you fired." The last part is said in   
a whisper. His coat hangs on his outstretched arm, forgotten.

I notice and take it from him and hang it back up. "All the more   
reason that I want you to stay and help me."

I take a deep breath and grab him by the shoulders. "Yes, I'm   
furious at you. Right now part of me would like you to leave and   
never come back. But my heart won't let me make you go. I love   
you, and that comes without conditions. But right now I don't like   
your behavior very much." 

I sigh and drag him to the couch. "I'm going to call Scully. I   
think we need someone relatively impartial here. Maybe she can   
help us figure out what to do."

Mulder looks a little less green as I say this. I hate to tell him   
that I don't think even our Doctor Miracle Worker can cure this   
situation. So I don't.

\--------------------------------------------------------------

Scully isn't as kind to Mulder as I was. "You did what? What the   
hell were you thinking, Mulder?" Her small but mighty hands are   
balled into fists as she paces my living room.

"I wasn't thinking, Scully. I was reacting. That's why we're in   
this mess." Mulder is sprawled on the couch, but he looks anything   
but tranquil. He swallowed about a hundred sunflower seeds as we   
sat here nervously waiting for Scully to arrive. Now he's ripping   
up the newspaper. Reminiscient of Eugene Tooms, but I don't want   
to bring that up right now.

"It's one hell of a mess! Especially considering Fowley's weapon   
disappeared when we went to talk to the police."

And I thought things couldn't get any worse. My sigh echoes   
through the silent room. "Any ideas what we do now?"

Just then, the phone rings. The Director wants to see me as soon   
as possible. No, this can't wait until the morning.

I hang up the phone and turn to see two pairs of worried eyes   
staring back at me. "I have to see the Director tonight."

"I'll--" Mulder gets up from the couch to grab me.

"No, Fox. Stay here. If you want to make another statement to the   
Director, I'll relay your request. But I don't think we should   
risk making the situation any worse tonight." He nods his head at   
my implied question. I put my hand on his shoulder, trying to calm   
him.

"I love you. We'll make it through this somehow." Mulder's words   
surprise me. Not so much in what is said, but in the conviction he   
puts behind them. This isn't my battle. It's ours.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

It's almost midnight by the time I get back to the apartment. I'm   
lucky I made it back here at all, according to the Director. The   
only reason I wasn't arrested was Scully's testimony to the DC   
police that Fowley was going to kill me. We both will have to make   
our statements tomorrow morning to the Bureau's investigative   
committee. As will Mulder, now that he requested to make a second   
statement. 

The Director was honest with me. My career is in shambles. I will   
probably be let go quietly if I'm found innocent. If I'm guilty,   
well we all know the outcome of that. He swears it isn't because   
of my sexual preference, or even the fact that I'm in a   
relationship with one of my subordinates. Two accusations of   
murder on one of their higher-ups, even unfounded, is more than   
he thinks the Bureau can handle. I don't know if I believe him or   
not. Right now, I'm too tired to care.

Mulder meets me at the door. I don't know what happens, but he   
suddenly grabs me by the shoulder to hold me up before I pitch   
head-first to the floor. "Watch the rug." Oh yeah, there's a rug n   
front of the door, to wipe your shoes on. Fatigue has hit me even   
harder than I thought, I suppose.

Mulder walks me into the bedroom slowly. I stand placidly as he   
removes my coat and suitjacket. But when he beckons me to sit on   
the bed and kneels down, I protest. "Where is Scully? Don't we   
have to--"

He cuts me off as he unties my shoes. "The only thing you have to   
do right now is sleep. Scully went home. We went over a plan of   
attack while you were gone. You can see it in the morning."

"I won't be your superior in the morning." Ah, damn. He didn't   
need to hear this now. But it just slipped out.

"What? What did the Director say?" He stops removing my pants and   
rocks back on his heels.

"That the Bureau will let me go either way." I cut Mulder off   
before his words echo his crestfallen face. "Given the evidence,   
Fox, this investigation would have gone on even without your   
meeting with the Director. Don't beat yourself up over it."

I look him straight in the eye before I say the rest. "I need you   
with me. I don't know if I can go down this path alone."

"You won't be alone. I promise." He shoos me under the covers. I   
watch him undress and join me.

I fall asleep wrapped in his arms, with his voice in my ear. "No   
matter what happens, I'll never leave you again, Walter."

******************************************************************

Chapter III: I Won't Let You Fall

I open my eyes to sunlight streaming through the curtains. I   
almost smile at the thought of a beautiful day. But then the   
memories of yesterday come flooding back. 

Look at what I've done. Why am I still here?

I hurt him. I destroyed his career. So why am I still waking up   
curled in his arms? I tense up inside those arms, not sure of what   
I'm supposed to feel right now. Apprehension of the coming day?   
Relief that I'm still here?

It's baffling. He's baffling. He didn't make me leave, throw me   
out of his life after I ran to the Director with accusations of   
murder. He had every right to. Hell, I wanted to die after I heard   
his side of the story. Walter dismissed my actions as impulse. He   
just asked me to stay to correct the problem.

Not that there's much correcting to do, according to Walter. The   
Director has decided that two accusations of murder, justified or   
not, are too many for an Assistant Director. PR is everything with   
them. I'd be gone a long time ago if it worked that way for field   
agents.

So I guess my job is to make sure Walter doesn't get arrested on   
top of this. He did nothing wrong. He defended himself from my ex-  
wife who was going to kill him to get some information about an X-  
file. God, Diana was a bigger bitch than I thought. It's strange,   
but I'm glad she's the corpse instead of Walter. Given the way I   
acted when she first reappeared, it's very strange indeed. But   
real love changes a lot.

The object of my thoughts open his eyes as the alarm rings. His   
chocolate eyes are trying to focus, trying to return to the real   
world. Oh, my love, you don't want to be here right now.

When he finally focuses on me, he moves to kiss my cheek. My   
thoughts are too self-demeaning to respond positively to his   
affection. My flinch away from him makes him sigh. "Fox, stop it.   
I'm not going to change my mind about us."

I realize I'm not doing anybody any good by beating myself up. I   
kiss him to tell him I'm sorry for my thoughts, my worries. We   
hold each other close for a few more minutes, trying to keep   
reality out just a little longer.

But then it's time to get ready for what could be the worst day of   
my life.

\---------------------------------------------------

I'm shaking as I get out of bed. I don't know if I can do this.   
How do you defend someone you accused the day before? How can I   
hold myself together when I know Walter could very well fall   
apart? I give Walter some space, grab some stuff out of the   
bathroom after a quick shower and go down to the kitchen to get   
ready. I need some time to myself.

Even with my rampant thoughts, I'm pretty calm by the time Scully   
comes over. I've convinced myself I need to be strong for him, as   
he has been for me. This situation is not easy for me, but it's   
going to be worse for him. I need to be there for him.

Scully and I discuss with Walter what we are going to tell the   
investigative committee. The facts, my misinterpretation of what I   
saw. We think it'll be enough to keep Walter out of jail, even   
with Diana's weapon missing. This whole situation makes me want to   
pray. I keep a hand on Walter as we talk instead.

We drive to the Bureau in Scully's car, silently. But when we get   
to the Hoover Building, Scully and I start organizing to keep   
Walter as safe as possible. We go into the building as a united   
front. Walter walks in between us. Scully and I keep the ogglers   
and the jeerers away with looks alone. There is an advantage to   
being Mr. and Mrs. Spooky. The other agents are scared of us.

When we get to Walter's office, the Director is there. The whole   
situation must have started to sink in for Walter at the sight of   
the Director in his chair, because he stumbles. I grab his arm,   
hold him steady. His weight settles against me slightly. I accept   
it gladly. He wants me here, he needs me. 

The Director gestures for us to sit down. When we are settled, he   
settles back in the chair for a second, then drops the bomb.   
"Walter, your career with the Bureau has been terminated as of   
this morning."

My usually stoic lover starts shaking at this point. "There's   
nothing I can do?" His voice is strained. 

The Director's face is sympathetic. "I'm sorry, Walter. The news   
reporters have gotten a hold of the information. It's a mess. And   
they found out your. . .preferences, which makes the whole   
situation even worse. We can't afford the bad press. You know   
that. Luckily, I have been able to keep them from finding out who   
your significant other is." He stares pointedly at me.

Walter gains some relief from this, as do I. "So Mulder. . ."

"Can continue on the X-files, yes. I'll have to decide if the new   
person can handle the X-files before I put them under him or her.   
I know Kersch was trying to pull Mulder under." God, I didn't know   
the Director was so aware, or so sympathetic to my cause.

"So now what?" I don't think the worst of this is over.

And of course, I'm right. "Now our investigative committee and the   
local police will get statements from each of you. I can't tell   
you how this will turn out. Agent Fowley's weapon still hasn't   
been found. I will do all I can to support your character, Walter,   
if it comes to that." The Director gets up from behind the desk.   
"I'll leave you all alone now. Kim has told me she will clean out   
the office for you if you want while you're inside with the   
committee. She's been in tears since she has come in. I don't   
think she'll be of much use elsewhere today."

He lays a hand on Walter's shoulder. "Good luck. I'm glad to see   
you have two of our best agents supporting you. When this is over,   
if you need anything. . ."

"Yes, Sir." Walter's reply comes out in a whisper. The day has   
only begun and already he is exhausted. I can see it in his eyes.   
I look at Scully, who grabs my hand. We're all together. Right   
now, that's the best we can do.

\--------------------------------------------------------------

Walter goes in and gives his statement first. I sit outside the   
conference room on the bench, trembling. "What if they don't   
believe us, Scully? What if they arrest him? I don't know if I   
can deal with that."

She's pacing in front of me, just as nervous as I am. But she can   
think more clearly under pressure. "You'll have to, Mulder. If he   
ends up in jail, you'll have to be there to support him. But let's   
just worry about getting through this, ok? He's not condemned   
yet."

"No, just without a job, his career." I sigh. At least I've   
stopped blaming myself so much. I'm worried about him. I wish I   
could be inside with him while he makes his statement. But he's a   
strong man, he'll make it through. I'll have to settle for picking   
up the pieces afterward.

Walter comes out of the conference room looking harried. Scully   
and I both grab his arms and guide him to the bench. I crouch down   
in front of him once he's settled. "How did it go?"

Walter closes his eyes and leans his head against my shoulder. His   
words are muffled because they are said into my chest. "It's hard   
to say. They kept going back to procedure. Did I follow procedure?   
What is procedure worth when dealing with the Consortium? But I   
couldn't tell them that."

Just then, one of the officiators calls Scully in. She grabs our   
hands briefly, then walks into the room. I know she'll do the best   
she can for us.

While she is gone, I take a chance and sit down next to Walter. I   
put my arm around him as he leans into me. We sit quietly like   
this until Scully comes out, just absorbing each other.

Then it's my turn. As the officiator calls my name, I look toward   
Scully, who is standing next to Walter's seated figure. She nods a   
yes, of course she'll take care of him for me.

I walk into the conference room and scan the six faces that are   
examining me. Not an expecially cheerful crowd, but what did I   
expect? I seat myself in the chair facing the assembled group.

Over the next hour and a half, I find myself repeating the same   
thing constantly. No, I didn't see the actual confrontation   
between Walter and Diana. No, I no longer think he murdered her in   
cold blood. That was my shock and anger talking.

My relationship with Walter did come up occasionally, but I think   
the Director was actually right about this. That wasn't the center   
of their attention. They just wanted to see if Walter was using   
our relationship to manipulate me. I couldn't tell them that he   
did from the start, to make me a better person. These people   
wouldn't get it. But they did seem convinced that he hadn't   
manipulated me into lying for him. At least not this time. May   
they never find out about the time I actually did lie for him.

By the time I leave the room, I know why Walter was so tired   
earlier. Those questions are exhausting. The group still has to   
question the local police officers, but I go out of there a   
bit more confident that we'll be ok.

Since all three of us are done for now, we walk back to Walter's   
office to see how Kim is doing with the clean-up. We don't talk   
much, just about some of the things said in the conference room   
and how we feel. We can't talk about the future, not even   
tomorrow. That has to wait until we know what tomorrow will hold.

Kim is packing a box with the last of Walter's personal things   
when we enter the office. She smiles slightly at us, then turns   
her head. I can see her body shake with her silent sobs. I'd   
like to join her, but right now I'm needed elsewhere.

I pull Walter down onto the small couch in one corner of the room.   
I lean back, pulling him with me. "Rest." As I feel him comply, I   
close my eyes to follow my own advice. I know Scully can handle   
any intrusions.

\----------------------------------------------------------------

Scully shakes me awake. I look at my watch. I've slept two hours.   
I look down to see Walter just starting to wake, then glance up at   
Scully.

"They want us to come back to the conference room." I nod and pull   
myself upright with the help of Walter's hand.

When we walk in, the Director is standing on one side of the room.   
He smiles slightly as we pass him. Two more chairs now face the   
assembled committee. Once we are seated, the Director begins   
to speak.

"Walter Skinner, I am glad to say that the Federal Bureau of   
Investigation has officially dropped their accusation of first-  
degree murder against you. Agent Fowley's gun has been found,   
with a bullet discharged. All testimony heard has collaborated   
your story, that you killed her in self-defense."

The assembled committee graces us with smiles. Like we're supposed   
to smile back or something. Yeah, right. But our sighs of relief   
echo through the silent room. Walter looks up at the Director   
questioningly. "I don't remember her gun firing."

The Director nods his head. "Our guess is that she fired at the   
same time you did and missed rather badly. There was a bullet hole   
in the wall behind where you were standing, from her gun."

I grab Walter's hand and squeeze it slightly. The circumstances   
don't matter now. Only that these people believe them. I look up   
at the Director. "Are we free to go?"

"Yes, Agent Mulder. And I've authorized that both you and Agent   
Scully get a week off starting tomorrow. You both need some time   
after all this."

He comes up to Walter to shake his hand. "Walter, it's been a   
pleasure having you here. I'm sorry I can't keep you. If there's   
anything. . ."

I think Walter has had enough, because his reply is barely civil.   
"No thank you. I'll be fine." He gets up to leave and brushes past   
the Director. Scully and I hasten to follow. We only stop at the   
office to grab the boxes before we head home to Crystal City.

\--------------------------------------------------------------

Scully leaves us at the door to the apartment. "You two need time   
to absorb this. I'll be around if you need me. Otherwise, I'll see   
you in a week, Mulder." Her footsteps echo down the hallway as I   
unlock the apartment door.

Once inside, Walter sinks to the couch, looking like the weight of   
the world is on his shoulders. "What am I going to do now?"

"I don't know. Take up golf?" I try to throw some humor into the   
room, but it falls flat. Walter's look is annoyed as his eyes meet   
mine.

"It's not as if I need the money. They are going to leave me with   
my pension, and I have some money saved up. But I can't help you   
now. . ."

I cut him off before he starts acting like me. "Says who? I don't   
always get my help from official sources, you know that." He looks   
a little better at my words, but I think it's time to change the   
subject now.

"Let's worry about that later. Right now, I think you need a   
reminder of your worth. Let me take care of you." I smile at the   
suspicious glint in his deep brown eyes as I take his glasses off.   
I kiss him lightly. "You've been through hell today. You need it."

I kneel down and remove his shoes as I had last night. As I rub   
his feet, he leans back into the couch with a tired moan. I hate   
to move him, but I bet he'll be more comfortable where I'm taking   
him.

I pull him up to stand and guide him to the bathroom. He looks at   
me bemusedly as I fill the tub with hot water and begin removing   
his clothes. "Fox--"

"Shh. I want to do this. You need this. Just go with it." Once he   
is naked, I guide him into the tub and grab a washcloth. He moans   
softly as I rub the cloth over his arms and chest, not in arousal,   
but in the release of tension. He closes his eyes as he relaxes   
finally.

I think he falls asleep while I am washing his legs, but I don't   
mind. I figured he might. I just finish cleaning his body, then   
test the tempertaure of the water to make sure it's not getting   
cold yet. When I'm satisfied, I get up to sit on the closed toilet   
and watch over him for a little while.

My eyes trace his features lovingly. How did I get so lucky? All   
my other lovers were inconsiderate fools. But he, like Scully, saw   
straight through my defenses to the wounded man inside. Not so   
wounded anymore, thanks to both of them. Tears sting at my eyes,   
in thanks to whatever god there is, for the gift I have been   
given.

After a few minutes, I get up to test the water again. I don't   
want Walter getting cold. As I reach into the water, I feel   
Walter's hand grasp mine. I look up to see his warm eyes regarding   
me. "I thought you were asleep."

"Only resting my eyes." He smiles at my slightly startled   
expression. "Come on, let's go rest in bed." I look at my watch.   
It's only six o'clock, but I feel like we've put in a full twenty-  
four hours. Sleep will probably do us both some good.

I help him out of the tub and pat him dry. As I do so, he laughs.   
"What?"

"You risked a perfectly good pair of workpants to bathe me?" I   
glance down at my suit pants. 

"Water is better than green slime or something." We grin together.   
We have found our way back from this.

And I want to share my discovery with him. I pull him into the   
bedroom. "Do you want to sleep, or. . ."

He smiles at the glint in my eyes. "What do you have in mind?"

"Just a little play, to celebrate us."

"I want to celebrate YOU. Your strength, your belief in us. You   
were so good to me today."

"I love you. You needed me. It's nothing more than that."

Walter grasps my hands gently and kisses them. "It's about time   
you realized that." 

I puzzle over this for a second, then realize he's referring to   
all the times he's stuck by me in the past. I always asked him why   
he stayed. Now I know.

He pulls me down on the bed. "I want you inside me. I want to feel   
your strength. I need to feel it now."

That is something we've done only once, a few months ago when   
Diana and Spender first disappeared. Then, it was an affirmation   
of his trust in me, and mine in myself. This time it will take on   
a whole new facet: ME protecting HIM. And I want to protect him   
from the whole world right now.

And so I take the initiative. My kisses are gentle, soothing. I   
want his arousal to be slow, for him to glory in every heartbeat.

My hands both massage and caress his muscles, making him moan in   
relief and delight. My heart cheers at each sound, and urges me   
on. I move my kisses down his neck, to his chest. I swirl my   
tongue over his tiny nubs and silently glory in his gasps of   
pleasure. And I move lower, over his abdomen, down his thigh,   
skipping over his straining erection for now. 

I worship his feet for a few minutes, with open-mouth kisses and   
caresses, then journey back up his other leg. This time I stop at   
his cock to caress its head. Walter strains up, begging for more.   
I oblige him and take it in my mouth. How warm and alive he is. I   
didn't realize how grateful I am for this fact until right now. My   
revelation spurs me to speed up my movement on his cock until he   
gasps "Enough!"

"Please Fox. Inside me. Now." I grab the lube from the table and   
kiss him hungrily. I want this too.

I stretch him open slowly with my fingers, feeling him squirm   
delightedly at my ministrations. When I'm satisfied I won't hurt   
him, I move into him slowly and lean over him to watch his face.   
Oh, what a sight! His eyes glisten at me in welcome.

He holds onto me as I begin to move, as if I am his base, his   
rock. It's amazing to me that this relationship can work both   
ways. That's my last thought before pleasure takes over my mind   
and body.

Walter comes with only the pressure of my body on his erection.   
His orgasm causes him to tighten around me, making me come seconds   
later.

I pull out of him when I catch my breath, and move to get off him,   
but Walter will have none of it.

"Stay. I need you to protect me a little longer. Tomorrow's soon   
enough for me to show my own strength."

As if he can be anything but strong. But I stay where I am, giving   
him my strength to build up his as we sleep.

******************************************************************

Chapter IV: Support is Everything

"Crashhhh"

"Walter! Walter, are you ok?" Mulder comes rushing into the   
kitchen, a worried look on his face. He must have thought a   
Consortium member crashed through the window to get me because   
he's shaking. And his gun is in his hand.

God, I got to stop doing this. I'm upsetting him. And he needs my   
support right now.

I pick up the contraption for Mulder's fishtank that I was trying   
to fix before my anger got the better of me. I guess it's junk   
now. I'll have to buy him a new one.

"Yeah. Sorry, my hand slipped." I don't think he believes my lie,   
but he's willing to accept it for now.

"Just as long as you're ok." He puts his gun down in the table.   
His hands gravitate to my shoulders as I sit back down at the   
table. He starts rubbing at the sore muscles there and along   
my neck.

"Ouch." I put my head on the table a little too hard. Or maybe   
not hard enough.

"Be careful, Walter." Mulder kisses the back of my head. "Are you   
sure you're ok? I know it's been hard for you since the Bureau let   
you go last week. . ."

If he only knew how hard. But he needs me strong. It's been tough   
for him dealing with Deputy Director Nivens while they hire a new   
AD. Mulder just isn't used to following rules to the letter. But   
at least he has the X-files and Scully.

I sigh, trying to think of a good excuse for my mood lately.   
Nothing comes to mind, so I use Scully's standby. "I'm fine, Fox."

"If you're sure. . ." I nod. "Then I'm going out for a run. I'm   
tense from this last case." His hands pat my shoulders lightly,   
then he moves toward the open doorway.

And what a case it was. A cult in Oklahoma was stealing people's   
pets for their ritual sacrifices. By the time Mulder and Scully   
got there, they were starting to steal babies too. Scully was a   
wreck when they came back two days ago. Mulder didn't look much   
better. But they stopped the sacrifices. God, I wish I could have   
helped them.

"Go ahead. Should I start dinner?"

"You're getting domestic, Walter." He smiles. "Yeah, if you want."   
He moves to the bedroom to change his clothes.

I follow him in silence and watch him leave. I bang my fist   
against the bedroom door once he's gone, nearly putting my hand   
through it. The wood is definitely cracked where my hand landed.

I sigh and fall on the bed. What the hell am I going to do with   
myself now?

\--------------------------------------------------------------

This pattern continues for a few more days. Mulder tries to get me   
to talk, knowing something isn't right. I avoid his questions, and   
start avoiding him, unconsciously. The sex, even our normal hand-  
holding, is nonexistent. When I realize what I'm doing, it only   
makes the situation worse.

It first comes when I see fear in Mulder's eyes. The anger, self-  
loathing. 

He comes home after being on a case, dirty, disheveled, and   
obviously tired. And panicked, if I interpret that relatively   
blank look right.

"Walter, I'm sorry. I got into an accident with your car. Scully   
and I, we were in a chase. . ." He has trouble continuing. His   
voice is shaking too much. 

They had been on a local X-file, one right outside Crystal City.   
By some weird coincidence, both Mulder and Scully's cars were in   
the shop today. So Mulder asked to use mine.

"How bad is it?" I growl at him. I'm not mad about his accident,   
per se. But at the possibility of him getting hurt. And the   
frustrations of being without anything to do, of course. I'm   
beginning to see how this frustration is affecting everything I do   
now. But he doesn't know that. I haven't told him.

He flinches away from me a bit. "It's, it's not bad. I'll pay for   
it. I promise." God, I had hoped to never see that look on his   
face again, at least outside an X-file. Fear, for his own safety,   
well-being. This time directed solely at me. I curse myself in all   
the languages I've ever learned. 

I turn away from him. I can't comfort him, calm him down. I'm too   
upset at myself for what I have done. But he thinks my anger is   
directed at him. "Walter, I, I didn't mean to. . ."

"Leave me alone, Mulder." I shake off the hand that lands on my   
shoulder. I can't do it. I can't look at him anymore. I can only   
think of one thing: getting out of here before I hurt him even   
more. I grab my coat and flee out the door.

I don't pause until I'm in the park about a half-mile away, where   
I collapse on one of the benches. What the hell am I doing? What   
am I doing to him? And for once, I have no clue how to stop it.   
I've gotten myself caught in a trap of my own making. My face   
falls into my hands. I'm only vaguely aware of the tears falling   
through my fingers.

\----------------------------------------------------------------

It may be hours, or minutes later when I hear footsteps   
approaching me. "Hey, mister, are you ok?" A young voice rings in   
my ears. 

I raise my head to see a young boy, maybe six years old. He looks   
a lot like Mulder probably did at that age. At my tearstained   
face, he startles. "Why are you crying? Grownups don't cry."

"Yes they do. When they are sorry they did something wrong." I   
sigh. "I don't know how to make it better." I don't know why I'm   
pouring my heart out to this youngster. Maybe I just need   
someone to listen.

"My mom always tells me to say I'm sorry when I do something   
wrong. And to ask for help. Sometimes I don't want to ask for   
help, even when it's too hard. You know, like my homework or   
getting something on a high shelf. But Mom says everybody has to   
ask for help sometimes."

Oh my God. This little boy instinctually shows me the thing I've   
been trying to avoid. The revelation hits me like a ton of bricks.   
I've been scared. Of the future, of turning to others. It's not a   
feeling I'm used to. I'm usually the one being turned to. And in   
my confusion, I hurt him. Oh, God.

The little boy starts to turn away, towards his family on the   
other side of the park. "Hey."

"Yeah, mister?" He turns back.

"What's your name? Mine's Walter." I smile, trying to show him I'm   
not dangerous.

"I'm Billy." William. Like my lover. Could it be an X-file?

"Thanks, Billy. I feel a little better now." The boy smiles, then   
runs off. I slowly get up from the bench. There's something I have   
to do now.

The object of my concentration must've followed me, because I meet   
up with him on my way back. He still has that terrified look on   
his face. I have to put a stop to that. Now.

"Fox." He flinches slightly when I grab his arm, but I keep my   
hold gentle but secure. "Fox, I'm sorry. I didn't. . .I'm having a   
problem and I don't know what to do. I'm sorry I took my   
frustration out on you." He looks at me warily as we walk back to   
the apartment, but he doesn't remove my hand from his arm.

\------------------------------------------------------------------

When I close the door to the apartment, I let him go to look at   
him. What do I do? What do I say? Ah, hell. I'll just keep this   
simple. I hold out my hands toward him.

He slowly wraps his long fingers around mine. I don't move, afraid   
I'll scare him again. When he looks up at me, I take a deep breath   
and do my best to squeeze the words out. "I'm, I'm afraid, Fox. Of   
trying to start again, with a new job, a new career. I've been in   
law enforcement so long. . .But now I have a stain on my record. I   
don't think I can go back to any lower positions. And I don't want   
to abandon you and Scully. With the Consortium mostly destroyed,   
nobody knows what the aliens. . ."

Mulder pulls me down to the couch before I can continue. His grip   
on my hands tightens. "Walter, hold it a minute. Is this what all   
this is about? God, I should have told you sooner."

Mulder's famous guilty look twists upon his visage. "What, Fox?"   
I'm afraid to hope, but knowing Mulder. . .

"I talked to the Director. Pleaded with him, actually, both of us   
did. We want you as our. . .advisor. Unofficially, of course. The   
Director agreed. He's supposed to call sometime tonight, after he   
finds a way to discreetly put you back on the payroll." 

He smiles at me slightly. "Is that ok with you?" I can see the   
lingering doubt in his eyes.

Which I seek to get rid of right away. I pull my hands away from   
his and use them to pull him into my arms. "It's more than ok.   
It's perfect. Thank you." I bury my face in his neck to hide   
the tears that are stinging my eyes.

But he must have felt them. His arms tighten around my back. "I   
love you, Walter. Do you really think I'd let you go it alone? I'm   
not that inconsiderate. Even Scully knows that." I can hear the   
smile in his voice. Relief makes me tired. When I pull away, I   
notice something.

He's wearing his running clothes. I gesture at him. "Did you think   
you'd have to run a marathon to catch up with me?"

He laughs. "I wasn't sure. You left at a full run. But since I   
didn't, do you mind if. . ."

"Go ahead. I need some time to finish calming down anyway." He   
hugs me again, then gets up to go for his run.

As I watch him leave, I wonder how I can ever thank him for what   
he's done for me. He's been so strong and considerate of my   
problems. I begin to form an idea...

\---------------------------------------------------------------  
End of Devotion

****************************************************  
Karma Interlude: There's Always Calm After the Storm  
Author: Amatia  
****************************************************  
Author's note: This is for Ladyhawk, without whom I could never   
have gotten all the way through this. Thanks for all those late   
nights on IRC helping me to get Mulder and Skinner into that   
bedroom. (And listening to my problems) You made writing this a   
joy, and I owe you a million hugs for it.  
:-)) Remember the bricks. :-))

The rich smell of spaghetti sauce greeted me as I opened the door  
to the apartment. "Walter?" I called as I tugged my nylon jacket   
over my head.

"In the kitchen," he called back. I followed the sound of his  
voice, and found him sprinkling garlic salt on buttered bread.   
"It's garlic bread," he explained. "Celebration dinner."

He grinned at me, his eyes twinkling, and I wrapped my arms around  
him. Hoping it wasn't too forward, I said, "I hope there's more   
than garlic bread."

Another smile, wider than before. My heart jumped in response.   
"Why don't you go shower, while I finish dinner?" he suggested.   
"It'll be a few minutes."

"Okay. Did the Director call?"

Skinner nodded. "I'm now working for the Bureau on the consulting  
basis, and that news hasn't been released to anyone except the   
Director, you and Scully, and the one person who's handling my   
paycheck."

"Which means you stay at home to work?" I asked.

He shrugged. "He said I would be welcome at the building, with a  
visitor's pass of course, and so long as you and I don't engage in   
any public displays of affection. So I guess we can't have sex in   
the stairwell anymore," he said woefully.

I laughed, and hugged him harder, glad that things seemed to be  
having some semblance of normalcy. "I'll be out of the shower in a   
few minutes."

"You better," he replied, his voice teasing. "You don't want your  
food to get cold."

I let go of him, and ambled down the hallway to the bathroom. The  
shower was soon hot upon my back as I washed away the sweat from   
my run, and the terrible feeling of dread I'd carried with me   
throughout it.

The smell of the garlic bread mingled with the steam in the  
bathroom as I shut off the shower and wrapped myself in a towel. I   
heard the clink of dishes from the kitchen.

Moments later, I was dressed in sweats, and entering the kitchen.  
Skinner had a bottle of wine on the counter, uncorked. I kissed   
his cheek. "Can I help?"

"You can pour the wine. Other than that, I'm almost done."

I poured the wine as he tossed the bread into a towel-lined   
basket. "I would have just piled it on a plate," I said,   
observing.

"Fox, your idea of gourmet food is Easy Mac," he chuckled, and put  
the bread on the table. Despite his air of humor, he seemed a   
little nervous. I knew I felt nervous. About what, I wasn't sure.   
These past few weeks had been hell, between Diana's death and   
Skinner's subsequent unemployment. Even though he had assured me   
that it wasn't my fault, I was still upset with myself at having   
been his accuser.

We sat down to plates of ravioli that he had found in the freezer.  
I looked at him across the table. He froze with a forkful of pasta   
halfway to his mouth. "What is it?"

"I feel guilty," I confessed.

Skinner set his fork down. "Why?"

"Because I turned you in."

Skinner sighed. "Fox," he began, "I love you. So let's not dwell   
on the past, okay? I've got a job again, one where I can be with   
you, and nothing else matters as much to me as being with you. It   
would have come out sooner or later that I was the one who...don't   
blame yourself. Please."

I stood up, unable to sit still any longer. "If it wasn't for me,  
you would still be an Assistant Director."

"One who would have to worry constantly about the papers finding  
out that he was having a relationship with a male agent who worked   
in his division," he replied gently.

I looked at him as he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms  
over his broad chest. "I didn't think about it that way, Walter."

A smile touched his lips. "Somehow I knew you hadn't. Now, sit  
down, and finish eating."

I sat back down, and picked up my fork, not entirely convinced,   
but feeling more at ease. We ate in silence for awhile. After a   
few minutes, he took a sip of his wine and looked at me across the   
table. "Have you been going through what's left after Spender?"

"He made good use of the paper shredder," I replied. "But it looks  
like some things got filed, things that didn't have much to do   
with the Syndicate. Nothing was investigated, except things they   
had to cover up."

"Have anything lined up now that the X-File that wasn't an X-File  
is over?"

"The one where I crashed your car, you mean?" I couldn't help but  
ask, cringing internally as I did. I liked to torture myself, that   
had to be it.

"Sometimes I think you like to feel guilty," he replied. "I didn't  
mention the car because I didn't want you to immediately start   
sweating over it. I'm not upset about it. It wasn't a big   
accident, and the insurance covers it. Now, do you have anything   
lined up to work on next?"

"There's a report of murders occurring at MUFON meetings in  
Janesville, Wisconsin, but it sounds suspicious," I replied.

"Fox, you only investigate things that sound suspicious," he said,  
grinning, and I found myself laughing as more of the tension ebbed   
away.

I stood up, and started to clear the dishes. As I ran water into  
the sink, Skinner brought over more dishes, and wrapped his arms   
around my waist. I smiled at him over my shoulder as I squirted   
Palmolive into the sink. "You really need a dishwasher," I   
informed him.

"I have you," he said in reply, then laughed. His hands found mine  
in the warm soapy water, and I leaned back to kiss him for a   
moment before turning my attention back to the dishes.

"Stop that," I scolded as he continued to slide his fingers   
through mine. "If you want me to wash these, go wait in the living   
room."

He pressed harder against me. "Leave the dishes," he murmured  
against my neck. "Let's go watch TV."

A shiver went through me as he slid his wet hands up underneath my  
t-shirt. "Walter..."

"It's been a week, Fox. You can't tell me you don't want it."

I turned in his arms so that I was facing him. "I could tell you  
that, but it wouldn't be true."

His reply was to catch my lips with his in a warm deep kiss. Then  
he dried our hands with the towel, and led me out into the living   
room. We settled into a comfortable embrace, and I flipped on the   
basketball game. He bit my neck lightly in protest. "I want to see   
the score," I explained, tipping my head to give him better   
access.

Skinner sighed against my shoulder. "Nobody but you," he muttered,  
"wants to see the score of the game when they could be making   
out."

I chuckled. "And you wouldn't put up with it from anybody but me."  
Satisfied with the score, I shut off the television. I turned so   
that I could catch his gaze. "You know, I'm nervous."

"Whatever for?"

"I don't know...I just am."

He maneuvered us so that I was laying down on the couch, and he   
was on his side next to me, leaning over. "You don't have any   
reason to be nervous, or to fear me, Fox. I haven't changed my   
mind about how I feel about you."

I reached up and caressed the back of his head before pulling him  
down. "I love you," I whispered against his lips before kissing   
him. His mouth was hot and willing, and I arched up into his   
embrace, unable to control my feelings despite my lingering   
nervousness.

He responded by pulling me closer, our bodies fitting together   
like puzzle pieces. "I know you're nervous," he whispered,   
punctuating his words with soft kisses. "I won't push you."

I slid my hands underneath his sweatshirt, molding my fingers to  
his warm back, my voice failing me as I tried to tell him that it   
was all right, that I wasn't afraid of him. But he understood   
without my saying a word, and his kisses deepened.

I tugged on his shirt, and he pulled it off, flinging it across   
the room. "Yours too," he said huskily, his fingertips caressing   
my stomach as he slid it up. I let him pull it off, then settled   
back against the couch, the rough material warm against my back. I   
let my hands drift over his chest, then pulled him back down.

There were no words for awhile as we explored each other, our  
kisses going from tender to almost punishing. When we finally   
stopped for air, we were both panting. His hard cock pressed   
against mine. "Fox..."

"Yeah?" I replied, kissing his collarbone.

"You think maybe we should move to the bedroom?"

I nodded against his neck, and he slid off of me. "I would carry  
you," he murmured, "but you're a little too tall."

I laughed, and followed him down the hall. The cover was turned  
down on the bed. "Were you planning this?" I whispered against his   
neck as his hands found the drawstring of my sweats.

"You mean you didn't realize that already?" he chuckled as I   
kicked away the confining material. "And you're the investigator.   
Tsk."

My laughter turned into a gasp as he slid his hand inside my   
boxers and wrapped his strong fingers around my cock. "Walter..."

"Sssh." His grasp loosened, and the rough pads of his fingertips  
rubbed against the head of my cock.

I fumbled for the first button on his jeans, and managed to pop it  
as he continued to tease me into an even higher state of arousal.   
I was reaching for the second one, when he pulled away, and went   
down on his knees, taking my boxers with him. I saw his intent a   
moment before he grabbed my hips and swallowed my length. I   
groaned, pressing forward, my hands dancing across the top of his   
head.

After a few seconds all my mind could register was the hot wetness  
of his mouth, and the fact that his warm hands on my hips kept me   
from thrusting further into the heat. "Walter," I groaned. "Stop,   
or I'll..."

He replied by running his tongue along the bottom of my cock,   
along the vein that throbbed there. Then I forgot about words as   
he relaxed his throat muscles and took my entire length into his   
mouth. Moans that I couldn't recognize as my own issued from my   
throat as he worked to bring me to the edge. Just as I felt a   
tightening in my muscles that signaled the coming orgasm, he   
pulled back. I opened one eye, gazing, and made a sound of   
protest.

Skinner stripped off his jeans, and pulled me down onto the bed. I  
ran my hand down his chest. "You are wicked."

He grinned, and grabbed the lube from the nightstand. "I know I   
am. You want it, or should I?"

Before I could answer, he was spreading the lubricant over my  
aching cock. The cool gel heated instantly in contact with my skin   
as I watched the look of concentration on his face. "You know,   
this isn't Jeopardy," I said. "How much concentration is involved   
in having sex?"

"A lot, if you want to do it right," he replied, replacing the  
bottle on the nightstand. He laid back against the pillows,   
looking up at me. "I want to see you."

I ran my hand down his rigid length, then used the precum that  
beaded the tip to ease the passage of my finger into him. His lips   
parted slightly, but no sound issued forth. I caught him in a kiss   
as I added a second finger to the first, and felt him shudder   
against me, his hard cock bumping against my stomach, leaving a   
wet trail.

"Ready?" I whispered in his ear.

Skinner nodded, and I slid almost agonizingly slowly into his   
heat. He groaned, and lifted his hips to meet my thrust. I looked   
down at him. "You okay?"

"Yeah," he gasped. I dropped my head and kissed him. He moved  
underneath me, and I began our familiar rocking movement almost  
unconsciously. His body was hot and hard underneath mine, and I   
realized how much I'd missed this in the past week. Not just the   
sex, but the feeling of intimacy.

I wrapped my hand around his cock, and started to pump.   
"Mulder..." he moaned, and arched upward.

"I love you," I whispered in his ear.

"I love you, too," he replied. I felt the ring of his muscles  
contract around me, and lights flickered around the edges of my   
field of vision.

"Wait," I groaned.

"I don't want to wait," Skinner ground out, and clenched again. I  
moaned, my hips and hands moving faster, faster, faster...the   
lights flickered more and more, until all I could see was the   
light, and all I could hear was him whispering my name...

"Walter!" I cried, and collapsed on top of him, barely feeling the  
wetness of his semen on my chest. "Oh, god..."

Through my haze, I felt him wiggle out from underneath me. I  
reached out for him, to keep him close. He chuckled in my ear.   
"I'm going to get a washcloth, or we'll stick together."

I grinned. "Okay. But don't forget to come back."

His hand traced my cheek. "I won't."

I stretched out on the bed, listening to the water run in the  
bathroom, closing my eyes. I was in the middle of a yawn when he   
came back, and dripped water on my face. I opened my eyes to see   
him smiling above me. "Hey!"

"Don't fall asleep just yet." He sat down on the edge of the bed,  
and gently washed my stomach and chest, then kissed my chin. He   
tossed the cloth on the floor, then spooned up against me. "I love   
you."

"I know you do," I whispered back. "Thank you. For loving me."

His breath was warm against my back. "Don't thank me...I couldn't  
stop loving you if I tried."

\------------------

************************  
Karma book 3: Commitment   
by Ladyhawk and Amatia  
************************

Chapter 1: Get While The Getting's Good

God, I should have known that he was behind this case. The   
bastard. Wisconsin must be his new base or something. He must be   
trying to recreate Cassandra, hurriedly. The deaths of the MUFON   
members were rather gruesome. The alien's green blood poisoned   
them all. 

Scully and I looked everywhere we could think of for signs of the   
smoking creep, but no success. Only once, when we were in a   
warehouse I thought I saw him. . .

\------------------------------------------------------------------

"Mulder, why are we going to a computer warehouse?" We were   
running between each of the three crime scenes all day, looking   
for connections. By the time we went to the warehouse, it was 6pm   
and we were exhausted.

"One of the MUFON members we questioned said that the second   
victim came here to meet someone before he was killed. I'm hoping   
to find something." We drew our guns as we approached the quiet   
building and went inside.

I flicked on the lights and nodded to Scully to take the right   
side of the building. I took the left. I moved cautiously. The   
lighting in the building was lousy, leaving much space in shadow.

As I rounded one stack of boxes, a shadow moved. I ran toward it.   
When I arrived at where the shadow last was, I saw nothing but   
boxes. One of them suddenly fell behind me, startling me. I must   
have caught the edge of a box when I turned around toward the   
sound, because I felt a sharp pain in my arm. There was nothing   
there behind me but the fallen box.

"Scully?" My voice carries in the empty room.

"Over here, Mulder!" Scully was still on the other side of the   
room.

I glided cautiously to the location of Scully's voice. I grabbed   
her shoulders so she didn't startle too much. My voice was gentle   
in her ear. "There's someone else in here."

"Where?"

"I'm not sure now. I saw something move over on the other side,   
but it left before I could see it." 

We continued to search together, but to no avail. That bastard   
gave us the slip. We went back to the motel. We had been here 4   
days with nothing to show for it. It's time to leave. Our new AD   
Eckert probably wouldn't cut us any more slack.

\------------------------------------------------------------------

I lean back on the bed of my motel room. The phone is to my ear,   
waiting for Walter to pick up.

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's me."

I smile as Walter laughs. "Who else would it be, at 1 AM? How's it   
going up there?"

"There's no sign of him. He may have moved on already. We're   
coming home." I sigh tiredly. I'm sick of this whole thing.   
Looking over my shoulder all the time, the lies, all of it. I know   
Scully is too. We need to regroup. I still haven't recovered from   
Walter getting fired.

"Good. I have a surprise for you. I found Kim and had her get you   
two weeks off. I already talked to Scully about it. She's going to   
visit her brother."

"And what will we be doing?" Walter is reading my mind again. He   
knew we were worn out.

"You'll see. Just get yourself home first." It's nice to hear   
Walter so relaxed. That's one good side effect of the disaster I   
caused when Walter shot Diana.

And it will be so nice to relax myself, these next two weeks.   
Although I wheedle and plea, Walter won't tell me where we are   
going. But I have fun picking on him, just the same.

\------------------------------------------------------------------

When I walk off the plane, he is there waiting for us. It's a   
shock to see him out in public dressed casually. I'm so used to   
the suit and tie, even though he dresses casually when I'm with   
him at night. I hug him as Scully grabs our bags off the carousel.   
I don't dare do more in public, although I want to kiss him until   
we are both breathless.

As it is, I lean on Walter more and longer than is considered   
appropriate in this biased world. But I don't care anymore. I   
missed him and I need to feel his arms around me.

Scully smiles at me as I look at her over Walter's shoulder. She   
has been so supportive. I know she's glad that Walter and I have   
made it through these last couple months still together.

"When do our vacations start, Walter?" He pulls away from me as   
Scully's voice carries to us.

"Kim was able to get you time off starting tomorrow. She also has   
some flight options for you. I did some research for you, since   
all this was such short notice. And no, Mulder, I'm not telling   
you where we are going." His eyes dance with mirth.

"Looks like you're in trouble, Mulder." Scully smiles at me. "Why   
don't you take the rest of the day off. I can finish up our   
report." Bless her. She knows I won't get a thing done because   
I'll be too distracted thinking of Walter and our mysterious   
vacation.

I wave at Scully as she goes to retrieve her car from the vast   
airport parking lot. Walter guides me to his Buick, waiting right   
outside the nearest door.

\------------------------------------------------------------------

As soon as we get into Walter's apartment, our lips meet in a   
soul-searing kiss. Our jackets are discarded as we seek out flesh.   
My absence has caused me to be more sensitive to his touch. I want   
to tell him to take me here, against the wall by the door. Even   
though I'm fully dressed, and we haven't let our hands stray lower   
than each other's waist. But Walter pulls back.

"You should pack. We need to leave pretty early tomorrow morning."   
That wicked spark in his eyes is back. He starts to move away from   
me.

Although I love when he teases me, I just can't handle it right   
now. I'm too aroused. And I have no patience. I pull him back to   
me, laughing.

In the second he turns back to me, an image flashes before my   
eyes. Of a devil's face, red, with horns, and the evil grin. With   
Walter's bald head and glasses. But the image fades quickly. I   
shake my head to clear it. What brought that on?

Walter looks puzzled for a minute. But that also fades quickly as   
I pull his hard body against mine. "Not so fast. I think we have   
something else we need to do first." My body traps his against the   
wall as I pull the sweatshirt over his head. Our erections bump   
against each other as I mold myself to his muscular length.

My moan is swallowed up by his hungry mouth. My knees weaken as he   
moves from my lips to the sensitive part of my neck with his   
kisses. Only his strong arms keep me upright.

"I've only been gone a few days. Why do I feel like it's been   
forever?" I comply eagerly as Walter bends to lower us to the   
floor.

"Love will do that. I know I haven't been able to get much sleep   
these past couple days because I was worried." My shirt buttons   
are undone by his skillful fingers as I unbutton his jeans.

My hand curls around his erection. The heat of it nearly burns my   
hand. His gasp is music to my ears. I push his jeans and briefs   
down his legs with one hand as the other gently traces the lines   
of his cock.

Walter shivers under my hand. I look up into his straining face   
and smile. With agility I didn't think I had at the moment, I flip   
us over and fasten my mouth onto his cock.

His hip jerk upward to meet my questing mouth and I swallow him   
eagerly. A strong hand snakes into my hair softly, warming me with   
its gentleness. He caresses my scalp as I lave his erection. 

But as his breathing becomes erratic, he pulls at my shoulder,   
pulling me up to face him. The love in his eyes is enough to bring   
me to tears. As it is, my voice is strained with emotion. "I love   
you, Walter."

His arms wrap around me as I bury my face in his neck. "Hey, are   
you ok?" His voice is concerned. I can understand why. It usually   
takes a lot more to bring me to tears.

"Yeah. I just missed you. I was worried. I thought maybe Spender   
diverted us to Wisconsin to get to you."

Walter chuckles softly. "Your paranoia is high gear, I see. I was   
ok. I didn't see anything suspicious while you were gone." He   
pushes himself up so he's in a half-sitting position. I pull my   
weight off him and sit back.

"Let's take this to the bedroom. The floor isn't good for my   
back." He pulls my hand and helps me up.

Once we are securely ensconced in the bedroom, we pick up where we   
left off, but this time Walter calls the shots. My clothes are   
quickly discarded and he guides me to the bed.

He sits up against the headboard and pulls me on top of him. "Like   
this? So I can hold you?"

God, I become a wreck when he turns sentimental. I fall into his   
arms with a sigh. The heat of his mouth draws me into deep kisses   
and my eyes close as the comfortable arousal takes over my mind.   
The muscles in my back are massaged and caressed as his lips and   
tongue work magic along my neck and chest. I growl low in my   
throat as he bites gently on one of my nipples.

I match his movements moments later and add to them. My hips   
almost involuntarily rock against him. Our erections brush,   
sending jolts of pleasure through me. But I need more. I want to   
feel his love surrounding me.

I grab the bottle of lube on the table beside us. Walter takes it   
from me with a smile and coats his fingers with the stuff.

"Ohh, yes. . .How do you know just what I need?" My skin tingles   
with joy as his fingers enter me, stretching me. His free arm   
wraps around me, pulling my body to his solid form, enfolding me   
in his heat.

"It's not hard when I need the same thing." The words are muffled,   
whispered into my shoulder. His hips jerk to meet the rocking   
motion of mine as his fingers continue to pump into me. His hard   
heat rubs against me steadily. Whispered endearments are   
intermixed with sighs.

Finally, Walter can't take any more. His fingers pull out of me   
and are replaced by his cock. I lean back to help guide him in and   
to watch his face. His eyes lock to mine as they had when I needed   
him to, to keep me focused, so long ago. Or so it feels. But now,   
I can show my love for him through my gaze. His smile turns into a   
grimace as my body takes him in fully, tightly.

He shifts and wraps his arms around me. The comfort I find in his   
arms is matched only by the joy found in the movements of our   
bodies. Our rhythm is slow and steady. We are enjoying each part   
of our union like a fine wine, carefully, with full concentration.   
Until the pleasure drives us faster.

My teeth bury themselves in his shoulder as we strain together.   
Our movements become erratic, but we never lose our grip around   
each other's back. Not even when my climax tears thru me, pushing   
me backwards. Or a second later when with a shout, Walter follows   
me.

We collapse against the headboard, still wrapped up in each other.   
We only move so he can pull his softening member out of me, then I   
relax into his embrace.

"So where are we going tomorrow?" I smile against his shoulder as   
he rocks with laughter.

"You never give up, do you? How does Vermont sound to you? I   
thought we could go hiking, be lazy around my friend's cabin. Just   
be together for awhile, alone."

"It sounds wonderful. Thank you. This is just what we needed." I   
kiss him softly as we move down the bed to lay down for a nap. He   
curls around my back protectively and his breathing slows.

Although his presence is a wonderful comfort, for some reason I   
can't settle down. The shadows in the room dance, seemingly to   
mock me. My head fills with images of all the enemies I fought in   
my past. 

Who is after me now? My instincts are on full alert all of a   
sudden. Whoa, hold it. I'm safe. I'm with Walter. I take a deep   
breath.

But even my logic isn't enough. The only way I can fall asleep is   
with my head buried in his chest, hiding from the shadows.

******************************************************************

Chapter II: Through the Thick

I always love to come up here. The air is clean and crisp. The   
sounds are of life instead of machinery. It makes me feel clean,   
an individual, instead of a cog in the ever-moving machinations of   
the human world. It does my soul good to breathe this air.

And the atmosphere is doing Mulder some good too. He's more   
energetic, more playful. But for some reason, in the past two   
days, he's become extremely paranoid. He's fine when I'm in the   
room, or outside with him. But as soon as I move away from him, he   
seems to cower, as if fearing attack at any second.

I've asked him about it, but he tells me he's fine. I'm not so   
sure. I've become very suspicious of the words "I'm fine." But   
what can I do? He won't tell me what's wrong, so I just watch him.

Tonight, we are just relaxing inside. But it's cold in here. Maybe   
I should go outside and get some wood for a fire. "Mulder, would   
you go in the bedroom and get my sweater?" He is standing at the   
stairway, looking a bit puzzled.

After a second, he shakes his head as if to clear it. "Ok. Where   
is it?"

"On the bed." I smile at him as he nods and runs upstairs.

I clean up a little while he's doing that. Mulder tends to throw   
his stuff around without thinking about it. I'm not concerned   
about it at my apartment, but I'd hate to have him lose something   
up here.

Just as I'm grabbing his sweatpants from behind the couch, where   
they fell the last time we made love, I hear a scream from   
upstairs.

"Mulder?!" I run up the stairs to find Mulder huddled on the floor   
of the master bedroom, staring into a dark corner.

I crouch down and lay a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, what's wrong?"   
I can feel him shaking and his skin is clammy. But as I scan the   
room, I see nothing amiss. What's going on here?

"The, the bugs. In the corner." Mulder points into a corner near   
the window. I walk over to it and look. Nothing.

"There's nothing here. Mulder." I look back at my lover, puzzled.

All of a sudden, Mulder's expression changes. He's looking right   
at me, but his face twists into a expression of extreme fear. Now   
I'm scared. "Hey, hey. What's wrong?"

I walk over to him to comfort him but he pushes himself away from   
me. "Get away from me! You black-lunged bastard!"

What the hell? "Mulder. Mulder, it's Walter. Shhh. It's ok. I'm   
not going to hurt you." I gentle my voice. God, I think he's   
hallucinating.

Luckily, I think reality comes back to him. He bursts into tears a   
second later and moves to fall into my arms. "I don't know what's   
happening to me, Walter." 

He buries his face in my neck and shivers. "I think I'm losing my   
mind."

"Can you tell me what's going on? Please?" I clutch his trembling   
body tightly.

"I, I've been scared. Of everything. Except you."

"You looked pretty scared of me a minute ago."

"I was? I don't remember." Mulder pulls back and looks at my face,   
puzzled.

"Yeah. You were looking straight at me and you looked terrified."   
I sit down on the bed and pull him down with me. "How do you feel   
now?"

"Tired. But not scared, because you're here." He lays down on the   
bed and grabs my hand. He falls asleep before I can say another   
word about the situation.

So I just curl my body around him and try to protect him from his   
inner demons.

\------------------------------------------------------------------

Unlike the beginning of our relationship, this time I'm not enough   
to keep the demons at bay.

I wake up to shouts and screams. Once my eyes adjust to the   
darkness, I can see Mulder sitting up in bed, swinging his arms at   
something.

"Fox? Fox, what's wrong?" When I look at him I expect his eyes to   
be closed, but they are wide open and seem to be at least somewhat   
focused. He's awake, hallucinating again.

He turns toward my voice, but he can't be seeing me. I've never   
seen him this agitated before. But before I can reach out to him,   
his fists head toward my face. I grab them within an inch of my   
skin.

"Mulder! What's going on?" I stroke his hair with one hand as I   
use my other arm to hold him still. But I can't get him to come   
back to me. He just keeps struggling, terrified.

After a few minutes of this, I know I need help. But what do I do   
with Mulder? I sigh. I don't want to do this, but I must, to keep   
him from hurting himself. . .

I grab my belt from where my jeans lay on the floor and wrap it   
around his hands and the bedpost. And I pick up Mulder's cellphone   
and hit the first speed dial number.

"Scully."

"Scully, it's Walter Skinner. I know it must be late there, but   
this is an emergency."

"Walter? What--"

"I'm not sure. I think Mulder is hallucinating."

"What has he eaten? Anything you haven't?" Thankfully, Scully goes   
into full investigator mode. I'm so worried, I'm not sure what   
questions need to be asked right now.

"Not that I know of. And he hasn't taken any medication. . ." He's   
been with me practically the whole time during our flight up and   
the last two days at the cabin.

As Scully mentally checks her list with me, I watch Mulder. He has   
finally stopped struggling with the belt and his eyelids are   
drooping. I want to release him from his constraint, but I'm   
afraid to. What if he runs off while I'm sleeping because he   
thinks something is chasing him?

Finally, Scully becomes frustrated. "Walter, I want to come up   
there. I want to do some blood tests. Do you mind?"

"It probably would be for the best. I can keep him safe here until   
we can figure this out. I don't want to take him to the hospital.   
I think I've become as paranoid as he is. . ."

"Just because you're paranoid doesn't mean they aren't out to get   
you. You'll be ok with him until I get there?" I can imagine   
Scully already scurrying around her brother's house, collecting   
her things.

"Yes, but what about your brother? I didn't want to spoil--"

"Walter, Mulder's my partner and my best friend. He needs me. I   
wouldn't do this any other way. Just keep him safe until I get   
there." With that, she promises to call as soon as she finds a   
flight to Vermont, and I promise to arrange for another rental car   
and directions. I won't leave the cabin with Mulder in this state.

\------------------------------------------------------------------

Scully gets here in the late afternoon. She must have wheedled to   
get the first flight out. I meet her at the front door and take   
her upstairs. Mulder is still tied to the bed, as he was when I   
called her.

He has had some periods of lucidity, but has spent most of the day   
in a world of his own. During his lucid times, I tried to explain   
what was going on and get him to eat and take care of other needs.   
But these times only lasted about a half hour at a time and only   
happened three times.

And he's at his worst when we go upstairs. He's screaming at the   
top of his lungs and pulling against the belt hard enough to leave   
cuts on his skin. He doesn't even react when we come into the   
room.

"Oh my God. This just happened today?" Scully sits on the chair by   
the bed. I put my hand on her shoulder to try to comfort her, but   
I need just as much comfort as she does right now.

"Ok, I need to get a blood sample to take to a lab near here. Help   
me." I knew Scully could be all business in times like these. Her   
resolve helps me focus on what needs to be done.

We struggle with Mulder for a few minutes, but luckily, he starts   
to become aware of his surroundings. "Walter?" He looks up at me,   
confused, as he was the three times before.

Since he doesn't seem to remember the times he was lucid before, I   
grasp on the first thing I can think of to get him to cooperate.   
"You've been sick, Mulder. Scully needs to take some blood."

"Ok. Can I get up after that?" He tugs on the belt lightly. I can   
see the blood on his wrists. The sight brings tears to my eyes. I   
reach up and release the belt. My hands try to soothe his chafed   
skin.

Scully gets what she needs quickly and smiles at Mulder gently.   
"I'm going to get this analyzed right away. I want you back on   
your feet quickly, partner."

I help Mulder to the bathroom and get him a sandwich as Scully   
walks out the door.

\------------------------------------------------------------------

Three hours later, Scully comes back. By this time, I've had   
Mulder restrained on the bed again for over 2 hours. 

Her face is grim as I let her into the cabin. "Preliminary work   
indicates that Mulder has been infected by a virus of unknown   
origin. It seems to be shifting chemical concentrations in his   
brain."

"I need to get him to a hospital to run some scans. I think this   
virus is trying to alter Mulder's brain. . .permanently. If we   
don't stop this thing soon. . ."

I'm afraid to even think of what could happen. I don't want to   
lose him!

******************************************************************

Chapter III: In Sickness

The shock of the whole thing is starting to give way to fear. I'm   
losing Mulder. And I don't know what to do. And by the look on   
Scully's face, neither does she.

"Let's get him in the car, Walter. Maybe we can find some answers   
once we do a CAT scan." But her face looks grim. Call me   
paranoid, but I don't think this is any ordinary virus.

Luckily, Mulder must be exhausted, so getting him into the car is   
easy. He's half-asleep the whole time.

But as soon as we set him on the table for the scan, he starts   
screaming. Luckily, Scully's badge secured us in the room alone.   
I'd hate to have to explain all this.

"Put him in the restraints Walter. I'll get the anesthesia."   
Scully moves around getting the apparatus set up.

Once we get everything working, Scully points out the changes in   
Mulder's brain. "It's changing chemical concentrations and the   
receptor sites for those chemicals. The higher levels of dopamine   
are probably what's causing the halucinations. I've also spotted   
strains of excess DNA in his blood stream. Like the DNA in my   
blood."

"Alien DNA?" Damn all of them! Why can't they leave him alone?

"Yeah, but it doesn't seem to be doing much. It might just be   
guiding the reactions and the virus."

"So how do we stop all this?" Panic is starting to set in. If we   
don't get this virus out of him soon. . .

"I can give him some psychotropic meds for now, but I'll have to   
stay here and do research on the virus. But maybe the drugs will   
slow things down."

The drug Scully gives Mulder basically turns him into a zombie.   
Her eyes apologize for this, but I know that is the best she can   
do for now. I take him back to the cabin with a prayer on my lips.

\------------------------------------------------------------------

When I get back to the cabin, I start swearing. I'm really wishing   
I still had my gun. Or a hammer would do.

Outside the cabin stands a very familiar suited figure. The smoke   
rising from his cigarette inflames me. I want to jump out of this   
car and choke the life out of him. But I need to know what he's   
doing here. He must have planted the virus inside of Fox. But why?

I get out of the car slowly, trying to make sure Fox is safe in   
the backseat and out of his line of fire. "What do you want?"

His smile freezes me. "I want Mulder."

"What?!" I may just forget my resolve and kill him right now. I   
step closer. . .

"Come now, Mr. Skinner. You know if Mulder isn't cured soon, he   
could be like that forever." He waves his hand toward the car.

"So give me the cure, you bastard!" I assume he's here to make a   
deal. What do I have to do or give up this time?

Damn the man, he wants it all this time. "Not this time. I want   
Mulder. In return, I will return your career to you." I'm ready to   
scream at him but he waves me off.

"I'll give you time to think about it. I'll be back in three days.   
The changes should be permanent by then."

"Why are you doing this?!" He backs away as I make a grab at him.   
I'm just about at the end of my rope.

"He's seen too much. He has ruined too much. He needs to be   
controlled." The last words are said in a stilted voice, as if his   
anger at Mulder matches my anger at him.

Even at this very frustrating point, curiosity is killing me.   
"Why do this? Why not just try to kill him?"

"I need him alive, Mr. Skinner. To keep the cooperation of certain   
people. You, of course being one of those people. But then again,   
you may be less inclined to care about him if that brilliant mind   
is gone." Before I can gather myself enough to say anything   
against this, he gets into his car and drives away.

I lean again my car with a sigh. I want to rant, scream, run,   
something. Something to make this pain in my gut go away. But I   
can't. I have to be strong for Mulder. Because that black lunged   
bastard stole his strength from him.

I can't stop the few tears that escape from me. I let them fall   
untouched. I don't want to acknowledge that I'm grieving for   
someone I fear is lost forever.

\------------------------------------------------------------------

Scully looks as exhausted as I feel when she gets back from the   
hospital. But she has some hope in her eyes.

"The virus responds to cold, like the alien blood does. It slows   
down. But it doesn't stop it. But maybe. . ." She looks down into   
her soup with a pensive face.

"What?" My spoon stops in front of my face. Mulder is more   
important than food right now.

"It would be radical, but we could try concentrated cold, like   
radiation therapy for cancer. The virus is centered in the frontal   
lobe of Mulder's brain right now. If I could devise something--"

"But that will only slow it or stop it temporarily. How do we get   
rid of them?" My head drops onto my open hand. 

"If we only hand a vacuum cleaner to sweep the virus out of him."   
The image makes us both chuckle, but that is impossible.

"Krycek." I look behind me. Mulder is standing there. His eyes   
appear focused for the first time all day. But what he just said   
makes me wonder. . .

"What did you say, Fox?" I try to sound calm, but I am worried. If   
he's hallucinating even when on the psychotropic, things could be   
worse than we thought.

"Contact Krycek. You wanted a vacuum cleaner. Why not tiny   
vacuums?" His hand rests on my shoulder, as if he feels my fear.   
Krycek could kill us all. . . And SR 819? It's too dangerous. I   
can't let him risk it. I don't even know if the things can be   
programmed for this.

"That just might work, Mulder. But where do we get the rocket   
scientist to create more of the little things?"

"Use the ones in Walter. If we can get them out of him, they   
probably can be reprogrammed." The wild ideas are back. Only in   
Mulder's head would these ideas be considered sanity. I smile at   
him through my fears. 

"Do you think Krycek could do that himself?" I know I can get   
Krycek. He left me an email address to get ahold of him when the   
time comes for him to get me to do something. That time never   
came. I wonder if the blow-up of the consortium had anything to do   
with that.

"We'd have to look at the controller. Did you get a good look at   
it before?" His hand wraps around mine, comfortingly. He knows I   
hate to talk about SR 819. I hate being that vulnerable.

"No. It was dark in the car." I caress the hand wrapped around   
mine. My eyes look up and take in his face. He amazes me. He   
should be dead to the world, locked in a world all his own, by   
Scully's account. And yet he's standing here trying to help us. So   
that we can help him.

"Well, then, we'll have to see what Krycek can come up with."   
Scully says this with little conviction. How are we going to   
convince Krycek to go along with this in the first place? And we   
are going to trust him with Mulder's sanity? I want to hope this   
will work, but this is Krycek we are talking about. 

But this is our only hope. "Scully, give me your laptop."

I hook the computer up to the phoneline and tap into the FBI   
internet connection. I send an e-mail to the appropriate address   
and a prayer to a God I barely believe in.

\------------------------------------------------------------------

The following morning, a black shadow is sitting on the couch when   
I come down to the living room. Glittering green eyes meet mine as   
I reach the bottom of the stairs.

"I'll do it." Krycek gets up from the couch and faces me. "I'll   
have to remove the little buggers from you and reprogram them. I   
take it Scully is here?"

"You'll do it, just like that?" My mind can barely grasp what's   
going on here. This is more than I had hoped for.

"It will cost you later. When I need you." He looks into the   
kitchen. "Get Scully up. We need to get started. You said Mulder   
doesn't have a lot of time."

"Right." I head back upstairs. Already, I can hear Mulder   
screaming. I guess he lost his fight with the virus today. At that   
thought, my body feels heavy. This situation is weighing us all   
down.

\------------------------------------------------------------------

Once we got Mulder as comfortable as possible, Scully and I head   
down to the kitchen, where Krycek is sipping coffee.

"Agent Scully, how nice to see you again." His smile somehow seems   
manevolent, even though he doesn't do anything more.

"Let's just get this done, Krycek. I don't want you here any   
longer than you need to be." Scully's stance is rejecting, but she   
holds out her hand.

He gives her a small box similar to the one he has to control SR   
819\. "Put this on his arm. The devices are attracted to its   
frequency. They should collect inside it. Then we can begin to   
reprogram them."

I hold out my arm to Scully. The device makes my skin tingle as it   
touches me. I can't see anything, but I swear I can feel the   
little things racing through my blood. After about ten minutes,   
the device beeps.

"It says all the devices have been collected. Now what, Krycek?"   
She glares at him, as if daring him to do anything other than help   
us.

"Get the data on the virus. I'll program them to your   
specifications." He takes the gray box from Scully as she goes   
into the living room to get her print-outs.

"Will this work?" Krycek glances at me after fiddling with the   
box.

"It has to. This is the only shot he has." Scully and Kyrcek start   
pouring over the data.

I sit on a chair a few feet away then go upstairs to be with my   
lover before they implant his bringers of life, or death.

******************************************************************

Chapter IV: For Poorer

Gazing at my lover, I pray. To a God I barely know, for the man I   
know so well. Hoping that another miracle can be pulled off in the   
nick of time. My only consolation is that Mulder has done that   
exact thing many times before.

Mulder's sleeping body houses the mind that I'm so desperate to   
save. I'll stick by his side and love him no matter what happens,   
but oh, to lose him to his own fears and imagination. . .

Scully walks into the bedroom quietly, with Krycek right behind   
her. "They are ready Walter. We need to put them in him now." She   
holds up the box containing the microscopic machines that, hours   
ago, were inside me.

"Should we wake him up?" That's not the question I really want to   
ask. But they can't answer that question: Will this work? Will   
these objects that nearly killed me kill the alien virus and   
return Mulder's mind to him?

Scully shakes her head to my voiced question. "We don't know if   
this will be painful for him. It's better to let him sleep." She   
sits carefully on the bed next to Mulder and touches the box to   
his arm. I can see something light up on it as she sends SR 819   
into him. Mulder only shudders once as the devices enter his   
bloodstream.

"Now, we wait." Scully sighs tiredly. It's only noon, but I'm sure   
the pressure of trying to save Mulder has weighed her down, as it   
has me.

I watch Krycek hover worriedly by the door for a minute. "Don't   
tell me you actually give a shit?"

"Yeah, and I'd tell you why, but it would just make you mad. So   
let it go." I examine his face as he says this. He's probably   
right. If--When this is all over, I'll ask Mulder about it.

I focus my attention back on my lover. Oh God. He's starting to   
convulse. Scully sees it right after I do. As if we've been doing   
this for years, we move simultaneously to turn him so he doesn't   
hurt himself. 

Scully glares at Krycek. He looks appalled. "I don't know. I'm not   
an MD!" He raises his hands helplessly as I try to keep Mulder   
from falling off the bed.

After a minute, it's over. Mulder collapses onto the bed and I let   
him go. He opens his eyes and gazes around, puzzled. "Where am I?"   
His voice whispers raspily.

"You're in Vermont. At my friend's cabin. We came here for a   
vacation but you got sick."

"What? Who are you??!!" Mulder grabs at me and pushes. I fall   
against the chair behind me, shocked. What the hell is going on   
here?

"WHERE IS SAMANTHA??! GIVE HER BACK TO US!" I watch, stunned, as   
Mulder reaches for Scully and tries to choke her. "I want my   
sister, you bitch."

Krycek and I grab at him to keep him from hurting Scully, then we   
try to find answers in each other's eyes. 

But the answers are locked in Mulder's brain. And I don't think   
any of us know how to get them out.

\------------------------------------------------------------------

It takes all three of us almost an hour to calm Mulder down.   
During this time, I realize that Mulder is actually relatively   
lucid. It seems, though, that he has large gaps in his memory.

Finally, we get him to the point that Scully can take some blood   
from him for testing. He's suspicious of us, but he's compliant.   
Once Scully gets what she needs, I resume questioning him to   
figure out what he remembers and what he doesn't.

"You don't remember any of us, Mulder?" I've moved my chair a foot   
away from the bed to give him some space. I don't want him   
thinking that I'm going to restrain him, although that's exactly   
what I want to do. Hold him in my arms until his body remembers   
what his mind is refusing to now.

"No, sir. I know I've seen him before." He points at Krycek. "But   
I don't remember from where. I don't recognize you or Agent Scully   
at all. I'm sorry."

"It's ok. You've been pretty sick. Your memory will probably come   
back as you recover. Just rest for now." I lean back in my chair   
and watch him try to absorb his surroundings. I glance up at   
Krycek, who is standing next to me. He is focused on Mulder.

"Do you know what you do for a living, Mulder?"

"I'm a computer programmer?"

"What makes you say that?" How the hell could the outrageous Fox   
Mulder come up with something so ordinary?

"I seem to remember sitting at a computer for hours on end."

His time with Kersch. Not a pleasant thing to remember, but   
certainly not the worst thing in that head of his.

"No actually, you're an FBI agent. In charge of your own division.   
I used to be your boss, but I was laid off."

Mulder ponders this. I let him alone with his thoughts while I   
pick up a book from the nightstand and start to read. About ten   
minutes later, I hear Mulder clear his throat, so I raise my head   
to look at him.

"After thinking about it, I seem to remember why you were laid   
off. You were actually fired for sexually harrassing me, weren't   
you?"

I'm glad I'm sitting down. Because I feel like I'm going to faint.

\------------------------------------------------------------------

I try to explain the actual situation of my leaving the Bureau,   
but Mulder won't hear any of it. In fact, he gets very agitated in   
my presence. So against my better judgement, I leave him alone   
with Krycek and go down to the kitchen to start dinner.

As I'm putting the finishing touches on the pasta, Scully walks in   
looking exhausted.

"The virus is gone." She smiles tiredly up at me as I pull out a   
chair for her. "Thanks." She sits down as I move to dish her some   
food.

"We have another problem now." I hate to tell her at this time,   
she's so tired. But she needs to be warned.

"What?"

"He's already beginning to remember pieces of the past, but they   
are getting twisted somehow. He thinks I was fired from the Bureau   
for sexually harassing him."

"Hmm. Memory's a tricky thing. It doesn't take much to alter what   
a person thinks happened. We'll just have to show him evidence to   
support the truth I guess." She must see the worry in my face,   
because she pauses. "What?"

"I think we should get him out of here. Before Cancerman shows   
up." I straddle the chair across from her and lean my head on my   
hands. Scully isn't the only one worn to the bone.

"I'm not sure he would let you take him, Skinner. I'm not sure   
he'd let any of us take him." Krycek's voice comes from the   
stairs. He walks toward us, looking as harried as we are. Krycek   
moves to the stove and looks at me quizzically and at my nod, gets   
some food.

"Why, what's wrong?" Scully's face drags as she looks up at him.

"I know you're going to try to blame this on me, but I swear it's   
not my fault. He thinks both of you are out to get him. I'm not   
much higher on his trust list. He does seem to remember my job   
with Scully and Duane Barry fairly well. The virus must have   
somehow twisted his memory rather drastically in some other areas,   
though. He thinks he should be working for the old man."

"The cigarette smoking man?" Oh my God. 

"Yeah. He remembers that the old man worked with his father. He   
thinks they were working together to stop the two of you, and   
possibly me, from helping the aliens take over the world." I have   
never seen Krycek look so helpless in my life. For once, I believe   
every word he just said.

That doesn't make me feel any better.

\------------------------------------------------------------------

The three of us spend the next day and a half trying to explain   
the truth to him. The truth he spent all of his life trying to   
discover, which now has been cruelly twisted in his mind.

The only thing fruitful from our efforts is that I gain some   
insight into exactly what Krycek was trying to do in his dealings   
with the consortium. He was trying to destroy the consortium from   
the inside. Small comfort now. I sit here in my frustration,   
trying to prepare for the worst.

Scully puts her hand on my shoulder as I gaze out the front   
window. "I don't know what to do, Scully. He won't listen."

"That's Mulder. Always wrapped up in his own ideas. But this time,   
I can't get him to budge at all on his convictions. He usually   
isn't this bad." I look up at her face to see tears falling. She   
feels as helpless as I do.

The three of us decided to take a chance when we realized we   
weren't making any headway with Mulder. We'd let him meet the old   
man. Scully theorizes that that might bring forth the memories he   
seems to be blocking. The ones in which he realized the man was   
responsible for the abduction of his sister, Scully's abduction,   
and the death of his father. 

Having him see the man in person seems like a weak solution to me,   
but I can't think of anything better. And right now, I'm running   
out of hope that I will ever see Mulder eyes shine in love for me   
again. My own tears begin to fall.

Just when I think I can't feel any lower, a car pulls up to the   
cabin. In it, I can see him. The enemy, the one who wants to take   
all that I have from me. Sorrow turns into angry frustration as I   
watch the old man get out of the car and approach the house.

I don't get up as Scully opens the door to him. In fact, I don't   
even look up as he approaches me. I'd rather not acknowledge his   
presence until he forces me to.

"Mr. Skinner. How is Agent Mulder?" Usually, I have a pretty long   
fuse. I have to, once working, and now living with the most   
incorrigible person it has ever been my pleasure to meet. But the   
words out of this man's mouth inflame me. My body lurches up and   
I'm yelling in his face before I even realize it.

"He's alive, but not well. What you did to him is criminal. Right   
now I want to choke the life right out of you. But I can't!" If I   
do, it will be harder to convince Mulder of the truth. I have to   
do all I can to help him get well. That means denying myself the   
one action that would please me the most at this moment. To give   
him the chance, as slim as it might be, to recognize this man for   
what he really is.

I don't realize Mulder has walked in until he makes a grab at us.   
"Keep you hands off him! Skinner!" He pushes on me. Not wanting to   
hurt him, I let him and fall backwards to the floor.

"Are you ok? I'm sorry, I don't remember your name." I watch,   
apalled, as Mulder steps over me and places his hand on the old   
man's shoulder.

After a moment of shock, it seems that the old man realizes at   
least some of what is happening. "I'm fine, Fox. Thank you."

"Could you explain to me what's going on here? I don't really   
trust these people. I know that they have tried to betray me at   
one time or another." I see a smile sneak onto the bastard's face.   
As I scan the room, I notice that Krycek's face echoes my feeling   
of horror.

"Sure, Fox. Would you like to come with me so I can explain it to   
you?" He puts his arms around Mulder's shoulders. I can't stop the   
yelled "No!" that emerges from me. I nearly sob right there and   
then as Mulder turns away from me.

Krycek holds me back as they walk out the door. "It won't do any   
good."

"I know." I lean wearily on his arms for a second until I feel   
that I can stand on my own. He nods as I regain my balance and   
lets me go.

I go to Scully and wrap her in my arms. Her sobs echo through the   
living room for what feels like hours. When she quiets, I lay her   
down on the couch and go into her bedroom.

I grab her gun from the dresser and sit on the bed with it. What   
do I have to live for? He's gone. I sit there for an hour just   
reliving all the pain.

All the frustration and pain drags me down as I raise the gun to   
my head. And the trigger isn't that hard to pull. . .

"Don't you fucking dare!" Before I can finish, the gun is knocked   
away from me by a very angry Krycek.

"We need you! Do you think even *I* am going to let that bastard   
keep him? Help us!" He holds my shoulder with his one good hand.   
"Cry, scream, I don't care. I want to do all of it! But don't   
leave us. If you do, we, and Mulder, are doomed."

For the first time in the last week, my tears actually bring some   
relief. Because I know I don't cry alone.

******************************************************************

Chapter V: My Name is Jean Valjean  
by Amatia

Scully and I both agree that we have to do something. Neither of   
us have ever seen Walter Skinner so close to the edge, and it's   
scaring us. Scully said yesterday that Mulder had told her he'd   
seen Skinner under pressure once, and it wasn't pretty.

This is downright ugly.

Since I had stopped him from pulling the trigger, he'd withdrawn   
inside himself, and stopped talking. One morning I went downstairs   
to the kitchen, and I found him pummeling a pillow so hard it was   
ripping at the seams. I'd gone and taken hold of his arm, telling   
him to come have some breakfast with me.

He's out on the porch right now, sitting on the step. Scully's in   
the kitchen, making sandwiches for lunch. I'm on the couch,   
thinking, trying to formulate a plan for re-infiltrating the   
Syndicate, and getting Mulder back.

I guess in a way what I want to do is partly for my own   
redemption- in my own eyes, and no one else's. Skinner and Scully   
have both told me that I've been invaluable here, helping them.   
Scully especially, she leans on me a lot. Skinner...well, he tries   
not to lean, but when he does, Scully and I hold him up. But I   
also want to do it because of the way Mulder and Skinner used to   
look at each other. Because of the trust Mulder and Scully once   
had. Because I never had any of those things, and I want to know   
that I helped bring people who were meant for each other back   
together.

I get up from the couch, and walk out onto the porch. Skinner   
doesn't look up as I approach him, just stares off into the sky. I   
lay my hand on his shoulder, and sit down beside him. "Walter?"

"Hmm?" He finally turns his head to look at me. "You've never   
called me Walter before."

"I figure it was time I started to, especially since all of us   
have been living together since..." My voice trails off, and I   
realize that for all my planning, I'm still afraid to broach the   
subject with him. But it has to be done. I take a deep breath, and   
plunge ahead. "You know that I have my own reasons for helping   
Mulder, and that I don't care to discuss it. But the situation at   
hand extends beyond my reasons. This time, I want to help him   
because you love him."

I see a spark light in his eyes, the first one in weeks. "Go on."

"I can go back, and re-infiltrate the Syndicate, and get him out."   
I say this all on one breath.

"But you can't get him to come to us if he thinks Scully and I are   
his enemies." The spark dims a little.

I shake my head, praying that what I'm about to tell him will   
really be true. "His amnesia, his wrong memories - whatever you   
want to call them, they won't last forever because it's not the   
truth."

He seems to accept it. "But the Smoking Man knows you're here, he   
knows you're with us."

"I can disguise myself. I've done it before, and I can do it   
again. That's not the trouble." I look out at the sky.

"Then what is the trouble?"

"It might take a long time, Walter. It could take up to a year for   
his real memories to surface."

"I can wait, Krycek. As long as I know it's not hopeless, I can   
wait."

I hope with all my heart that he won't see that I can't promise   
him it's not all a lie. "I'll leave tomorrow."

I look over at him again. The spark in his eyes shines brighter,   
and he squeezes my arm. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me until I bring him back. But I'll call you every so   
often to let you know what's going on, if he's improving. And you   
have to promise me that you won't put a gun to your head again."

"Not if I know that someone's trying to help Fox."

He seems to have regained some vitality now, a will to keep going.   
I can only pray that my plan will work, and that I will be able to   
get Mulder to remember the correct memories without slipping up,   
and letting him know it's really me behind the mask. I'm afraid   
that if I fail, the rest of this already broken glass angel will   
shatter. My angel, Skinner's angel. I think that Scully could   
survive it, but not Walter. He and Mulder are too intertwined now   
to survive a complete and utter separation.

Once upon a time, I had wanted to be where Walter Skinner was   
before Mulder contracted the virus. Now, all I want is to see them   
together again. I squeeze Skinner's arm in reply. "I promise you   
that I will try my hardest to help him."

He stands up, straighter than he has in weeks, and I stand as   
well. "Bring him home, Alex."

I'll bring Mulder home, or else I will die trying.

******************************************************************

Chapter VI: For That Which Was Forgotten

The beach feels warm under my feet as I run along the shore. My   
bare feet dig into the sand, making me feel more in tune with my   
surroundings. It helps alleviate some of the confusion inside my   
mind. Up ahead of me is something else that helps. I figured he'd   
be here, waiting for me.

"Hey Charlie!" The redheaded man turns his head. Even though it's   
a warm day here in Florida, Charlie is covered from neck to toe.   
Only his face and long auburn hair remains uncovered. White   
gloves, matching his shirt and pants, even cover his hands.

"Hi, Mulder." I stop in front of him and plop down on the sand. I   
stretch my limbs as he watches. When I settle down, he settles   
himself carefully into the sand. "So what's on your mind today?"

That's the thing I found easiest to like about Charlie. He doesn't   
waste any time, just gets straight to the point. But sometimes,   
it's a trait that troubles me a lot. Especially when my thoughts   
are disturbing. Like today.

"I'm remembering more things. But I'm not sure what's real and   
what's not. I could've sworn that Skinner was jailed for   
harassing me. . .but I seem to remember living with him. I don't   
get it."

"Well I doubt you'd live with him if he tried to sexually harrass   
you, so one of the memories is probably wrong." They are   
conflicting memories. . .But how do I figure out which is correct?

"How do the memories make you feel?" Charlie's bright green eyes   
feel like they are delving into my soul.

"Well, the one about sexual harassment is very vague now. Almost   
like it's faded. The new memory, however, has a lot connected to   
it. I mean, I remember sleeping with him, laughing together at TV,   
making love. . ."

"Sounds to me like that's the real memory. It has a lot more   
attached to it." He stares out into the water. His profile in the   
early morning sun is almost. . .familiar, in a way that reminds me   
of the time before I moved down here with Christopher Spender. I   
have been here almost six months. And I met Charlie a month after   
I moved here. . .

\------------------------------------------------------------------

Most of my real memories of Scully came back the day Charlie   
showed up. I was in an abandoned building near the beach when he   
found me, holding my head in agony. I had run there to escape   
Spender. I no longer was sure who he was exactly.

Charlie came into the bare room and sat down near me while I   
cried. He was covered from neck to toe in blue and he wore a black   
baseball cap, with his hair in a ponytail. I remember that well   
because I stared at him for hours as I tried to assimilate what my   
mind had flooding through it.

"Scullee. . ." Tears dripped down my face as I watched this   
stranger just sit there and watch me.

"No, the name is Charlie. Who's this Scully?" He smiled at me   
gently. 

"A friend. Who I lost. . ."

"Did he die?"

"She. No, I ran away from her. I couldn't remember what a friend   
she was to me!" This thought makes me sob harder.

"If you couldn't remember, I'm sure she'd understand. Did you have   
amnesia?"

"I guess. I'm not completely sure what happened. I came here   
thinking things happened one way, then all of a sudden memories   
come flooding back. And these memories feel more *right* than the   
other ones." I sighed into my open hands.

"Sounds like someone altered your memories?"

"Maybe. The whole thing sounds weird. Like an X-file. . ."

"What's an X-file?"

"A paranormal FBI case. I was the head of the X-files division, I   
think. Scully was my partner." I leaned my head against the wall   
behind me. "She was, is one of the best people I knew. How could I   
have just left?"

"You didn't realize. You must've thought she was the enemy, for   
you to be this upset about it."

"Yeah, I did. Christopher even told me she hated me. I shouldn't   
have believed him. . ."

"No sense beating yourself up about it now. Can you contact her   
and explain?"

"Yeah, I guess I could." I looked up at Charlie with respect. He   
reminded me so much of someone I once knew. . . 

And at least three times a week after that, I'd find him somewhere   
near me. On the beach, at the store, near Christopher's house. 

And when I moved into my new apartment, when I no longer trusted   
Christopher, but was afraid to back to DC, Charlie was around even   
more.

When I needed him, for a shoulder to cry on, someone to listen, or   
just watch over me, he was around where I could find him.

And he sat by me when I finally got the nerve up to call Scully   
last month. We cried together, all three of us. It was a happy   
reunion. I told her I may be back up there soon. As soon as I   
figure out what I've been missing.

\------------------------------------------------------------------

Charlie walks me back to my apartment, where he can be out of the   
sunlight, the light that burns him so badly. Strangely enough, his   
face tans quite nicely. But I never questioned him about the   
clothes or his face. It would be rude, considering what he's done   
for me.

I get him a lemonade and sit across from him. "Why won't you tell   
me where this money is coming from?"

"Your benefactor wants to remain anonymous. They just realized you   
were running out of funds and needed help quickly." He fiddles   
with his glass. 

"Umm, Mulder?"

"Yeah?"

"Have you made any decisions about seeing Scully yet?" He's always   
pestering me about that, with the best of intentions. He doesn't   
want me to lose my best friend.

"I talk to her every night, but no, nothing about going back yet.   
Why?"

"Maybe you should talk to this Skinner too. Try to figure out   
exactly what was the nature of your relationship."

"But what if he wants to get back together?" I hold my head on my   
hands.

"See how you you feel when you see him, I guess. If he is as good   
as your memories suggest, he might understand if the feelings are   
missing."

"But what if they were there before, but they don't come back?"

"We all take a chance on love, Mulder. I'm sure he'd rather you   
not fake any feelings for him. You'll find away to deal with it. I   
have the utmost confidence in you." Charlie smiles at me gently.

"I'm not ready yet, but soon."

"What are you waiting for?"

"Something. I'm not sure what." Just then, something catches my   
eye. Charlie's hair is out of place. I can see hair beneath the   
red strands, dark hair. The red hair is a wig. 

Although I have much respect for Charlie, paranoia or something   
hits me hard. He's been playing me for a fool! Who is this man?

Before he can react, I reach up and rip the wig off. When I do, I   
can see a crease in his skin, like he's wearing. . .a mask!

"Mulder? What are you doing?" He leans back in his chair with a   
startled look.

"Who are you? What do you want with me?" I growl at him as I stand   
up. I wish I had my gun right now.

He sighs. "I knew you'd figure it out sooner or later." He pulls   
off one of his gloves. The hand underneath is. . .fake. Why didn't   
I notice this before?

"Krycek?" 

He pulls of the thin mask and reveals his face. "Yeah Mulder. It's   
me."

"What are you doing?"

"Trying to help you sort through your memories. And trying to make   
sure you stay safe while you do so." He pulls off his other glove   
and rolls up his sleeves now that his disguise isn't necessary.

"Since when do you want to help me?"

"Since I realized how badly they manipulated me when they had me   
kidnap Scully." Krycek looks tired. "When he did this to you, I   
had to. . ."

"What?" Something's troubling him, and for once I really want to   
know what it is.

His reply is whispered. "I had to knock Scully's gun out of   
Skinner's hand. To keep him from shooting himself."

At that, something in me snaps, and this time snaps hard.   
Skinner--Walter almost killing himself because I am gone? I moan   
heavily as I sit back down. My head thumps loudly onto the table.

"Mulder?" I feel Krycek's good hand on the top of my head, but I   
can't look at him. I can't lift my head. The weight of my feelings   
is too strong.

"He's ok now Mulder. Scully and I talked to him. We wouldn't let   
him get hurt."

I barely hear him over the roar in my ears and the flashes in my   
head. Walter, teaching me about sex, the right things about sex.   
Walter, holding me at night. Suffering because I tried to destroy   
him for the death of my ex-wife. Falling into my arms, exhausted,   
because of it. And the recovery time afterward. . .

The love I doubted was there comes rushing back full-force. I   
can't even try to stop the tears. But as I sob my heart out,   
weight lifts slowly. I can raise my head after a time, and look at   
Krycek watching me.

"Better now?" I've never seen Krycek look so compassionate in my   
life. I rub my hands down my face. 

"A little."

He moves around the table and crouches next to me. "Dare I ask?"

"I remember. I remember all of it. How could I have done that to   
him??!" Krycek grabs my shoulder as I lean too far one way and   
almost tumble out of the chair.

"You couldn't remember. Nobody blamed you. We all just wanted to   
kill the old man." He helps me straighten up and gets a paper   
towel from the roll on the counter. "Here."

I wipe my eyes as he sits back down at the table. "Now what?" My   
voice is shaky from crying.

Krycek pulls out a cell phone, punches in something, and hands it   
to me. It rings, then someone picks up.

A very familiar someone. "Krycek, what's going on?"

My heart leaps into my throat at the sound of the strong masculine   
voice on the other end of the line. I almost can't find my voice,   
but I finally gasp out one word.

"Walter?"

The shock on the other end is almost tangible. His voice is   
shaking as he says "Fo-ox?"

"Yes. I'm coming home." I sob this out as I hear him start crying   
too. 

"I love you. I'll be waiting for you." I can barely make out his   
words through his sobs.

"I love you too, Walter." And I mean it with all my heart.

******************************************************************

Chapter VII: Forever is All that Matters

Standing in the airport lobby next to Krycek is disconcerting now   
that I remember everything about him. But his loyalty to me seems   
more genuine than it has in the past. And he saved Walter from   
doing something that would have killed me as well. So I wait   
patiently and actually smile at him once.

I glance about, looking for them, my best friend and my lover.   
Scully had to leave the Bureau early to come here, but she said   
she wouldn't miss this for the world. We have to start catching up   
right away if I am to rejoin her on the X-files any time soon.   
Although she said if I come near the office within the next week,   
she will shoot me again.

And Walter. . .He told me he bought a house in Georgetown, not too   
far from Scully's apartment. He did this in hope that we could   
start over together. All I have to do is say I want the same thing   
and move my stuff there. And of course I'm taking him up on the   
offer, as soon as possible.

Scully approaches us first, looking as professional as ever. But   
when she spots me, the professional demeanor drops like a rock and   
she rushes toward me. I grab onto her for dear life when she   
reaches me, and bury my face into her shoulder.

"Oh, Mulder." I can hear the tears in her voice as she clutches   
me. "Welcome home."

"It's good to be home. Thanks for not giving up on me, partner." I   
smile at her shakily as I pull back slightly to see her face.

"Give up on Spooky Mulder? Never." We laugh together. Then I look   
over Scully's shoulder and see him. Scully gives me one last   
squeeze then backs up.

"I'll see you when you two come up for air. Call me, Mulder."   
Walter waits until we say our temporary goodbyes, then approaches   
me slowly.

He doesn't say a word, just lays his hand on my face. Then he   
takes my hand and pulls me out of the airport. I look around as we   
go, and realize Krycek must have left awhile ago. 

When we get to Walter's car, we get in and he pulls me into his   
arms. "I couldn't do this in there. I--I, oh God. . ."

I put my arms around him and let him sob into my shoulder. I   
caress the back of his head and close my eyes, absorbing the   
feelings I almost lost.

"I'm home, Walter. I--I'm sorry for--"

"Don't you ever! Don't blame yourself for what happened. . .Not   
even the stuff you said. You didn't remember. Not correctly,   
anyway." He puts on a stern but loving face. Then he breaks away   
from me and starts the car. "Let's go home. I think you'll like   
the house."

I smile at him. He's resisting the urge to jump me right here in   
the parking lot. I can see it in the set lines in his face. It   
feels good to be wanted. . .

\------------------------------------------------------------------

The house is almost cute. A red brick two-story with a large   
swinging seat on the porch. It looks. . .domestic. I like it from   
the second I see it.

"Are we playing house Walter?" I grin at him.

He shakes his head with a smile. "I wanted something nice for us.   
I'm sorry if it's not outrageous enough for you."

"It's great. But I bet the inside's even better." I laugh and get   
out of the car as he runs up to unlock the door. I follow him   
inside into a sunlit living room.

"Nice." I look around to the off-white walls and colorful   
furniture. That's all I register before Walter pulls me onto the   
large tan couch.

"Fox? Can--" I see hesitation in his eyes, which I wipe away with   
a shy kiss.

"Remind me of us, Walter. I want to know if my memories are right."

I lay back on the large sofa and pull Walter's strong body on top   
of mine. Our lips meet softly at first, then more passionately. 

When we are finally out of breath, I pull back slightly and look   
at his face. "Walter. . ."

He smiles through his tears as I brush them away. "I was afraid   
I'd never. . ."

"I know. But I found my way back, thanks to all of you. And now   
I'm never leaving you." I nuzzle his neck and wrap my arms around   
him.

And I am soothed to sleep by the sound of his heartbeat. . .

\------------------------------------------------------------------

I wake up to a hand caressing my now naked chest. When I open my   
eyes, Walter smiles at me from his seat on the floor next to the   
couch. "I think all this emotional stuff wore us both out."

"Yeah, but now. . ." I pull him to me for a passionate kiss. "I   
think we should now finish what we started." I whisper this in his   
ear as I reach under his shirt.

"May we never be finished." Walter looks into my eyes and says   
this as if it were a solemn vow. At this, I reply "Never." just as   
seriously.

We entwine our hands as we watch each other's eyes flash emotion:   
love, desire, joy. Then I smile and reach to pull his shirt off.

My memories of us were powerful when they came flooding back, but   
images can't beat the real thing. The smell of him, the feel of   
his slightly callused hands make me shiver in delight. His kisses   
suffuse heat through my body. I try to return the caresses, but he   
pushes me back on the sofa, as if it was the day he first made   
love to me. "Let me. I want it to be perfect for you."

"It's already perfect. I need to feel you, to touch you and know   
this is real." I get up from the couch and pull him to his feet.   
"Show me our bedroom?"

He smiles. "I didn't tell you? There is no bedroom. I bought two   
couches instead." He waves his hand at the living room furniture.

I take a mock swing at him and laugh. "Goof." He catches me in a   
bear hug before guiding me up the stairs. The bedroom is large,   
with a beautiful king-sized bed in the middle of it. On one of the   
pillows is a white picture frame with a picture of me gazing out   
my apartment window. He had taken it one day while showing me the   
camera.

"I needed you near me." He moves the picture to the night table   
and faces me. "I don't want to go too fast here. It's been so   
long. . ."

"Too long. Just shut up and kiss me, will you?" I do it for him,   
pulling him to me and plundering his mouth. My body pushes his   
backward until we both fall onto the bed.

I smooth my hands over his broad shoulders and chest, reacquainting   
myself with all my favorite small details of Walter. The wiry   
hair, his sensitive nipples, his moans of delight when I touch   
them. "Fox. . ."

I caress his abdomen and reach the buttons of his jeans. I look up   
to see a question in his eyes. "Are you sure? I don't want you to   
rush."

"I wouldn't be here if I had any doubts, Walter. I love you. And I   
want you. Now." I unbutton his jeans and pull them, and his   
briefs, down to reveal his erection, pointing straight at me.

I caress the silky shaft softly as I watch his face transform in   
pleasure. Then I bend to take him in my mouth.

"God, Fox." Walter's hips shoot off the bed as I lick the head of   
his cock. "I can't, can't take that. I want us together. . ." He   
reaches down to get me. 

I move up Walter's body and settle on top of him. My pants rub   
against his cock, inflaming us both. Walter carefully reaches   
between us to undo them and pull them off my legs. He hesitates at   
my boxers, so I yank them off.

"Walter. I. Love. You. I'm here. I'm real. And I want this. I need   
this." I figure the only way to prove my point is to make it real   
for him. I imagine he's afraid to blink right now.

So I grab the lube and coat his cock with it. Although it's been   
as long for me as for him, I figure I can handle him without   
preparation. So I lower myself onto his cock.

The burning is welcome. It reminds me of my reality. That I'm   
here, where I want to be. With the one I love. Then I meet   
Walter's eyes and drown in the emotions pouring out of them. And   
the burning is forgotten as I begin to move upon him.

It's been too long for us to last long. Within minutes, he shouts   
out. I follow a second behind him, without even having touched my   
cock. Walter catches me as I collapse onto him.

He smooths back my damp hair and kisses my forehead. "Welcome   
home."

\------------------------------------------------------------------

Two months later, I am happily ensconced in the life I used to   
know. I've been working on the X-files with Scully for a month. I   
haven't officially moved in with Walter yet but I spend most of my   
time there. And Scully always calls me there. . .

I arrive at the house to find Walter sitting on the couch, looking   
very seriously at me.

"Walter, what's wrong?" I have shivers running up my spine just   
from his look. My instincts kick into gear, looking for anything   
that may have upset him.

He points to a long rectangular box. "This came for you this   
afternoon."

It looks like a florist box. "Walter, I--I haven't. . ." God, I   
hope he doesn't think I've been seeing someone else. It would   
break my heart. 

"Open it." He doesn't look angry or upset, just serious. So I grab   
the box and open the lid.

Nestled inside is one white carnation with a note. I pull out the   
card and look at it. 

It says "I can't promise you a rose garden. But I'd like to   
promise you forever. Walter."

I glance up at Walter. "Will you marry me? I know it won't be   
official, but. . ."

After I get over the shock, I try to find my voice. A whispered   
"Yes." is all that comes out. But I fall into his arms, which I   
figure he'd understand if he didn't hear.

"I love you Walter. Give me forever."

He clutches me close. "Forever, Fox. I am yours forever."

\------------------------------------------------------------------

End of Commitment

*****************************************  
Karma Epilogue: In Truth We Found Forever  
by Ladyhawk and Amatia  
*****************************************

It's a sunny day when I open my eyes to the sound of the alarm in   
my, soon to be *our* house. I stretch out and get up quickly. I   
rush through my shower and dress in a T-shirt and jeans as I hear   
the doorbell ring.

I find Mulder's three friends, the Lone Gunmen, and Scully's   
mother, standing at the door. "Hello everyone, are we ready?"

"You just leave getting the house ready to me, Walter." Mrs.   
Scully smiles at me.

"I'll help you. We have time. I have all of the food in the   
fridge. The flowers are being delivered in about fifteen minutes.   
I just have to have time to get dressed."

I turn toward the three men. "You can set up the video equipment   
near the couch for now. That should keep us from colliding with   
each other."

"Ok." Byers nods as they go back to their van and get their stuff.   
I take the dry cleaner's bag from Mrs. Scully as we enter the   
house.

I lay the bag on the coffee table and head with Mrs. Scully to the  
kitchen. We grab the decorations and head back into the living   
room.

The florists arrive as we are covering the floor with a red   
carpet. The coffee table and fireplace mantle are already draped   
in red.

We take the the white carnations and spread them around in a   
circle on the carpet and over the mantle behind us. When we are   
all finished, I wipe my hands.

"Guys, time to get dressed." I shoo the Gunmen upstairs with me,   
leaving Mrs. Scully free to use the downstairs bathroom.

I put on the black suit carefully, as if it was made of delicate   
fabric. I look in the mirror to smooth it out and pin a white   
carnation to my lapel. I want to look perfect for him.

As I'm doing so, the doorbell rings.

\---------------------------------------------------------------

"Mulder." A finger pokes me.

"Hummm?" I wiggle under the blankets. Then I realize that the   
voice wasn't Walter's, that it was Scully's, and that I'm getting   
married today. I sit straight up in the bed, and Scully bursts out   
laughing. I do my best impression of her raised eyebrow. "What?"

"Your hair is sticking straight up." She snickers some more.

I frown at her, then start laughing myself. My stomach is jittery.   
"What time is it?"

"You have plenty of time, Mulder. Come on, I made breakfast."

Scully makes me eat the pancakes she made, saying that if I don't,   
I'm increasing my chances of fainting during the ceremony. I give   
her a "get real" look, but she just crosses her arms, Dr. Scully   
all the way. When I'm finished, she sends me back into the bedroom   
to get dressed. Half an hour later, she has picked every speck of   
lint off of my navy blue suit, and fastened the white flower to my   
buttonhole. I see tears shining in her eyes. "Scully, what is it?"

"I'm just so happy for you and Walter," she replies.

I smile at her. "Thank you. You look beautiful." She's wearing a   
simple light blue dress with a floral print, and the sun has given   
her skin a little color.

She squeezes my hand. "Let's get you to Walter's, okay?"

\------------------------------------------------------------------

When I get to the door, I open it to a very frightened looking   
Mrs. Mulder. I move aside to let her in, but she shakes her head.

"Mr. Skinner, could you please tell Fox. . .Tell him that I love   
him, but I can't watch this."

As I watch her turn away, the memory of the night I told her I was  
marrying her son comes back to me. . .

It started with me fighting with Mulder about it. "Fox, she's your   
mother. I don't care that you don't care if your own mother comes   
to your wedding. We're going to invite her."

"She probably will mess it up anyway. She never respected my   
decisions. And this is one decision I won't let her mock."

"Would it help if I called her and talked to her?"

Mulder nodded into my shoulder as I held him on the couch in the   
living room. I picked up the phone with my free arm and dialed her   
number. . .

"Mrs. Mulder, this is Walter Skinner."

"Yes, how can I help you?"

"Mrs. Mulder...I'm not exactly sure what the best way to put this   
is, so I'll just come right out and say it. Fox and I have   
developed a very special relationship over the past few months, a   
relationship that most people would see as strange. You see, I've   
fallen in love with your son, and he's fallen in love with me."

"I can't approve of this Mr. Skinner. I raised my son to be. . ."

"Straight? He's not, Mrs. Mulder. But he's a strong man with much   
to give. He's given me so much."

"I won't be party to this."

"I can't believe you'd do that to your son. Not give him the   
support he has needed all his life from you." I got really angry   
at this point. "He told me not to even tell you about the wedding.   
He was afraid you'd spoil it. Now I can see why!"

Mulder looked up at me with a horrified expression. I shook my   
head at him, indicating it was ok.

I turn back to Mrs. Mulder, a little calmer. "I am going to give   
you the address and the time and date. Think about what you're   
doing to your son by refusing to acknowledge this event."

I did just that before I hung up and clutched Mulder tight. . .

I shake my head and close the door. I survey the living room   
carefully as the Gunmen move the camera into it's designated spot.

And this time when the doorbell rings, I see Scully's smiling face   
next to Mulder's loving one.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

On the ride there, Scully tells me that I look like I'd taken a   
vitamin made of pure sunshine. I laugh, feeling almost like I   
have. "Mulder," she says seriously, "I'm so happy for you I know   
I'm going to cry throughout the entire ceremony, and at the   
reception, and probably for the entire day."

I just look at her, and smile, remembering the day I told her and   
the Gunmen that Walter and I were getting married. I'd called them   
earlier in the day and invited them all over for pizza and a   
Mystery Science Theater 3000 repeat of "The Puma Man". Scully was   
a little apprehensive of spending an evening with the Gunmen, but   
I promised her Frohike would leave her alone, on fear of not   
getting my now-rarely-used porn video collection.

Once they were all assembled, with even Scully eating some pizza,   
I decided it was time to make my announcement. "Hey, guys?"

"Huh?" Frohike, Langly, and Byers said simultaneously, all rather   
entranced by Donald Pleasance in a muumuu.

"Yes, Mulder?" That was Scully, looking glad to get away from the   
movie.

"I want to tell you something."

They all looked at me now. "What is it?" Scully asked.

"Well...I'll just say it. Walter asked me to marry him." I   
couldn't control the grin I felt spreading across my face.

Scully's eyebrows shot up. "When?"

"Three days ago."

I caught the pillow she hurled at me. "You didn't tell me right   
away? And you said yes, right?"

"Yes. And I wanted to tell everyone at the same time, so stop   
throwing pillows at me, Scully." I couldn't get the grin off of my   
face.

The Gunmen were all staring at me, expressions ranging from semi-  
shock on Langly's face, to a gentle smile on Byers'. Frohike was   
somewhere in between. "What do you guys think about this?" I   
asked.

"I think it's great," Frohike said.

"Yeah," Langly added.

"Congratulations," Byers said.

I caught another pillow from Scully, whose eyes were brimming with   
tears. "What is it, Scully?"

She wiped at the tears and smiled self-consciously. "I'm just so   
glad to hear it, Mulder."

Byers passed her the box of tissues, and she pressed one to her   
eyes, then leaned over and hugged me. "So when's the wedding?"

I smile fondly as I remember that night, and hand Scully a tissue.   
She wipes her eyes and turns onto Walter's street.

"Nervous?" she asks as she parks, and we exit the car.

"In a way," I admit. "It's a big commitment...but I believe that   
it's the right thing."

Walter opens the door to his - our - new house, and I know,   
without a doubt, that this is the right thing.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

I let Mulder and Scully in and give each a hug.

"You look stunning, both of you." I kiss Mulder softly as I usher   
them toward Mrs. Scully. "I have to finish getting set up here."

"Is Krycek here yet?" Mulder ask as he wanders toward the kitchen.

"Not yet." I turn to help Langly adjust some of the lamps in the   
room to focus on the spot in front of the fireplace.

We get everything set, and I look around. Everything's ready, but   
still no Krycek. I glance at the wall clock. He's twenty minutes   
late.

A glance toward the kitchen tells me Mulder is worried. He's   
leaning on the doorjamb with an anxious expression.

The doorbell finally rings five minutes later. I answer it and   
find Krycek out of breath. "Sorry, I got caught up with something.   
I came as soon as I could."

"Just as long as you made it. That's what matters. Come in, we're   
ready." I let him walk past me.

"Hi, everyone. I'm sorry." Krycek looks to me for direction. I   
wave him onto the other side of the circle of carnations I made.

Then I watch as he introduces us to the rest of our lives. . .

"I thank Mulder and Walter for the fine honor of helping them   
express their love for each other in a way that they consider   
binding. They have shown all of us the true endurance of love.   
Their belief in each other has given me hope for the future.

"But let them tell you and each other what they truly feel.   
Walter?"

I step into the circle of flowers and take a deep breath.

\------------------------------------------------------------

Walter opens the door smiling, and he hugs Scully first, then   
wraps his arms around me for a moment. "You look stunning, both of   
you," he says as he releases me, and kisses my cheek. Then he   
waves us towards Scully's mom. "I have to finish setting up here."

I ambled towards the kitchen, then pause and frown. "Is Krycek   
here yet?"

"Not yet," Walter replies.

Trust Krycek to be late, I thought, then mentally smacked myself.   
Krycek had done a lot to bring me back to Walter and Scully, and I   
was grateful to him for putting his life on the line for us. I   
still didn't have a clear picture of exactly why he had aided us,   
except that I knew he felt guilty for his part in Scully's   
abduction.

I watch Walter and the Gunmen set up as I lean against the   
doorjamb. My lover is wearing a black suit with the precision of a   
military uniform, and he looks...well, he makes me want to drag   
him upstairs right now. I continue to glance repeatedly at my   
watch, and out the window, getting agitated more and more with   
each minute that ticks by. Finally, I see Krycek running up the   
walk, and the doorbell rings. "Sorry, I got caught up with   
something," he pants as Walter opens the door. "I came as soon as   
I could."

"Just as long as you made it," Walter replies. "That's what   
matters. Come in, we're ready."

Krycek steps into the room, with an embarrassed smile. "Hi   
everyone, I'm sorry." His eyes catch mine briefly, and I smile at   
him. Then he looks at Walter, who waves him onto the other side of   
the carnation circle, and I watch as he takes a deep breath. "I   
thank Mulder and Walter for the fine honor of helping them express   
their love for each other in a way that they consider binding.   
They have shown all of us the true endurance of love. Their belief   
in each other has given me hope for the future." He pauses, and   
smiles at us. "But let them tell you and each other what they   
truly feel. Walter?"

I watch my lover step into the circle, and focus his gaze on me.

\---------------------------------------------------------------

I look at my lover, standing in front of me, with wondering eyes.   
After all we've been through, after all we fought, we are finally   
here. And I want to tell him how so very glad I am to be standing   
where I am right now.

"Mulder, when I met you for the first time, I admired you. You   
were unique. You made everyone around you sit up and pay   
attention. I know I payed attention since that first day. But it   
wasn't just the liver eating mutant you talked about that caught   
my attention. 

"It was your determination, your belief in what you were doing.   
That was why I admired you.

"Your ideals were unique, in this day and age. You believed in the   
truth, above all else. You gave the truth, as well as sought it   
out. And you cared. For everyone you took under your wing and into   
your confidence. You cared so much, you'd give your life for any   
one of us. When you took me into your confidence, I started to   
care.

"But it didn't stop there. I began to like you. The Post-It notes  
included in your reports when you thought I needed information you   
wouldn't make official endeared me. Your trust in me, even when I   
believed less of your stories than Scully did, uplifted me. Even   
when I had fallen into that ugly trap the Smoking Man used against   
me. I saw respect in your eyes even then. And then I could call   
you friend.

I never dreamed that love could come out of it, though. Until I   
almost died. Until I saw my world differently. When I entrusted my   
life to you, to your relentless determination, I gave you my heart   
as well. My heart cried out to yours as my life faded from me that   
day. It cried out in regret, for all the things I would never show   
you, never tell you. I wanted to share with you, even if we were   
nothing more than friends. But we had barely begun at that point.

"I was falling hard for you the first time I asked you out, but I   
figured it was a one-time thing. Fox Mulder could never want what   
I want, I told myself. Over the next couple months, I found out I   
was wrong. Although you took months to tell me that you loved me,  
you showed me it in so many different ways. In the trust you gave   
me when you told me about your father. In the joy you took in   
being with me. In the ways you took care of me, whether I wanted   
you to or not. For all this and more, I love you.

"And I will always love you. No action by you or by anyone else   
will ever change that. And I want you to be reminded of this   
always."

I reach into my pocket and grab Mulder's hand, pulling him into   
the circle. I stare into his eyes, which are shining with unshed   
tears. "This ring is a symbol of my heart, which is yours. Keep it   
near yours so it may protect you and comfort you when I'm not   
physically present, because my thoughts and my spirit always walk   
with yours. I love you. I am yours."

I slip the ring on his finger as we both watch. I look back up at   
him, not bothering to hide my tears of joy.

\------------------------------------------------------------------

I smile back at Walter, squeezing his hand, and swallowing my own   
tears which were threatening to rise. I love this man more than   
I've loved anyone before, and finally, I can make it as official   
as possible. I take a deep breath, feel him squeeze my hand, and   
begin to speak.

"There was a time, when I was so deep into Hell that I couldn't   
see the light for the darkness. I couldn't remember things that   
were true, but I could remember things that were, in truth, false.   
I was walking in the wrong direction, and it was the Devil himself   
that stood before me and beckoned me deeper into that darkness. I   
couldn't decide if I should follow him, or turn around. It seemed   
to me that the path behind was just as dark as the path ahead, and   
I was afraid."

"As I struggled to understand the difference between truth and   
falsehood, I faltered in my steps, and in faltering I saw flashes   
of light. The light illuminated the river of souls, and I saw the   
flatness of a boat that floated there, it's edges curved like a   
demon's smile. And in that boat stood someone who was only   
pretending to be the Devil's minion. He offered me his hand, and   
told me that he could row be back out to the light, and out of   
Hell. All I had to do was tell him what I knew to be truth, and   
what I knew to be falsehood."

"And as I told him what I knew, I saw that the things I thought   
were true were lies, and what I had once thought were lies were   
really truths. As he rowed me back out of Hell, he told me that   
the light still loved me, that the light would welcome me back   
with open arms, and that the light knew that I had been deceived   
by the Devil." I smile at Walter, and his smile in return is   
brilliant.

I take another breath, trying to slow my wild pulse, and continue.   
"It was Walter who was the light, and it was Walter who'd taught   
me that I was not the man of darkness that I had once thought I   
was. And it was Walter who taught me about love - how to love, how   
to make love, how to express love. How to love myself, and in   
doing that, he showed me that I loved him. It was my journey   
through Hell that finally taught me how deep that love was, and   
that like an ocean, it was endless, for all oceans are connected,   
just as Walter and I are connected, constantly mingling with each   
other. And just like those oceans can't ever be separated, neither   
can Walter and I."

I take the ring from my pocket, and slide it onto his hand.   
"Walter, with this circle of gold, I promise you that my ocean   
will never willfully part from yours, and that my love for you is   
as true as love can be. I belong to you, and may this bond between   
us never be broken."

\------------------------------------------------------------------

I lean my forehead against that of the man my heart now calls   
husband. My tears fall onto his cheek, mingling with his. We hold   
each other as Krycek's words drift to my ears.

"As officiator, I declare us all witnesses to the declarations of  
commitment we just heard. May we all aid them in their journey   
together, as friends should. And may we hope for all of us to find   
a love as strong as theirs. In our eyes, Fox William Mulder and   
Walter Sergei Skinner are now married."

At those words, I move to kiss Mulder lightly. We separate and   
look toward the others together. With hands linked, we step out of   
our circle and to our friends.

Krycek steps up to shake my hand as I hand Mulder over to Scully.  
"Congratulations on this. I think you've done Mulder a lot of   
good. And I know you'll take good care of him." Krycek pats my   
arm. "And thanks for letting me help both of you."

I nod then notice Frohike sniffling on the sofa. "Are you ok?"

The little man nods. "I didn't expect you guys to be so damned. .   
.poetic!"

I smile at him. I didn't expect the man with more porn videos than   
Mulder to be moved by words of love. Byers quietly gives me his   
congratulations as Langly nods respectfully at me.

As I straighten up, Scully grabs me and kisses me on the cheek.   
"Take care of him, Walter. He's my best friend."

"I will, Scully. He's got my heart, remember?"

Mulder hugs me from behind. "And I'm never giving it back."

"Good for you."

Mrs. Scully approaches us. "Lunch is ready, everyone. Let's toast   
to the happy couple."

Everyone filters into the kitchen ahead of us. I hold Mulder back   
for a minute. "You are everything to me, you know."

He kisses me lightly. "And you are my truth."

\---------------------------------------------------------------

Walter wraps his arms around me as Krycek speaks the words that   
proclaim us to be married, and I feel his tears fall onto my face.   
I feel as if my heart is going to burst from happiness, and I hug   
him tightly as he kisses me. Then we release each other, and step   
out of the circle, holding hands.

Krycek moves over to Walter as he lets go of my hand. Scully, with   
tears shining on her face, hugs me close. "Mulder, I'm so happy   
for you. You and Walter. That was so beautiful, what you said to   
each other." A sad note touches her voice for a moment. "I can   
only hope that I'll find that."

I hug her tightly in return. "You will, Scully. I know you will."

She releases me, and pulls Walter down so she can kiss his cheek.   
"Take care of him, Walter. He's my best friend."

I watch my husband as he replies, "I will, Scully. He's got my   
heart, remember?"

I wrapped my arms around him from behind, and grin at her. "And   
I'm never giving it back."

She answers my smile. "Good for you."

Mrs. Scully exits the kitchen, announcing that lunch is ready, and   
everyone follows her back into the kitchen. Walter hold me back,   
and I move into his arms. "You are everything to me, you know," he   
says softly, resting his forehead against mine.

I kissed him gently on the lips. "And you are my truth."

Walter pulls a handkerchief from his pocket, and wipes away his   
tears, and mine. "I love you," he says quietly, and I can see it   
shining in his eyes.

I hope that it's shining in mine as well. "I love you, too."

He lets me go, and we follow our friends into the kitchen of our   
home. Together.

Forever.

END

Ladyhawk's notes: This is my first time at a true collaborative   
effort. I thank Amatia for her patience through this whole   
process, and for doing such a good job!

Amatia's notes: Big thanks to LH for waiting for me while I   
struggled with a night of writer's block. I had a wonderful time   
working on this, and I hope she and I can do it again sometime.


End file.
